


You've Got Male

by noodle_kugel



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Epistolary, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, M/M, New York City, you've got mail - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodle_kugel/pseuds/noodle_kugel
Summary: Elio Perlman and Oliver Fox are immediate nemeses in their professional and personal lives, in this take on Nora Ephron’s 1998 film, You’ve Got Mail. After Elio’s mother passes away, he inherits her Upper West Side independent bookstore, a beloved haven that survived the neighborhood being overtaken by corporations, Duane Reade stores, and banks. Oliver works for his father’s company, one of the most successful internet marketplaces in the world. Neither knows that the other is his anonymous online friend that he met on Reddit years earlier. Though the two instantly clash, can they eventually find common ground to form a friendship, or perhaps something more?(For the 2019 CMBYN Big Bang!)
Relationships: Oliver & Elio Perlman, Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 338
Kudos: 231
Collections: CMBYN Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for the CMBYN Big Bang! It's based on Nora Ephron's You've Got Mail. Most of the story is going to be told as an epistolary.

**Snippet from _Forbes Magazine_ ’s _40 Under 40_ article**

Oliver Joseph Fox, the son of Bruce Fox, has been making waves since joining the ranks of his father’s company. At Congo, the largest multinational technology company in the world, with its roots as an online marketplace for books, the younger Mr. Fox has been heading the book division of the company’s New York office for the past year. 

Following the success of the company’s Seattle pilot bookstore, Congo will be opening its first east coast brick and mortar bookstore, at 79th Street and Broadway on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. Fox will be spearheading the New York store. 

“I’m excited to take Congo from a digital experience to a tangible one. I think the city will love our store, and we’ll be able to bring our books and products to shelves for the same prices that the consumer pays when they order online, with the customer service the public has known and loved for over twenty years.”

Prior to joining Congo as the assistant head of distribution, Mr. Fox graduated magna cum laude from Harvard University. Upon graduation, he received a Rhodes Scholarship, and at Oxford, studied English Literature at Wolfson College. Mr. Fox recently received his MBA from the Harvard School of Business, and rejoined the company as Director of Book Acquisition. He has also topped the list of New York’s most eligible bachelors from several publications since returning to New York…

* * *

**Yelp Reviews for Le Dépanneur, a bookstore at 203 West 80th Street on Manhattan’s Upper West Side**

_**5 Stars, by Martha G.** _

Oh, how I adore Le Dépanneur! I’ve been a devoted customer since they opened their doors in 1989. The owner, Annella Perlman, was just the warmest and kindest person you could ever meet. When my girls were young, we used to take them to the bookstore almost every Saturday for musical story hour. Annella used to read children’s books while her young son accompanied her on the keyboard or guitar. Annella’s son, Elio, runs the shop now, and he just knows everything there is to know about books and music. You will not regret spending an afternoon, or hundreds of dollars on books, at this store.

_**1 Star, by Nicholas M.** _

What a rip off! I went to this store to buy the latest James Patterson, and everything is so expensive! They sell everything for 40% more than what you can pay on Congo! The old Italian lady working the register couldn’t figure out how to let me use Apple Pay, and when I tried to get the owner’s attention for his help, he was too busy playing a guitar in the back room. I will never be shopping at this pretentiously named store again. Who gives their bookstore a French name if they aren’t a French store??? Au revoir, Le Depawhatever!

* * *

**Snippet from _A Family Affair_ , an article from the _Oberlin Alumni Magazine_**

Elio Perlman, Oberlin Class of 2009, cannot remember a time when he was not surrounded by books. His polyglot family’s Morningside Heights apartment was filled to the brim with books in more languages than he can count. Elio’s father, Samuel Perlman, who currently teaches at UCLA, was a professor of classics at Columbia University, and his mother, Annella, owned a bookstore called Le Dépanneur, at 80th and Amsterdam on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.

“My parents instilled a love of reading and appreciation of literature,” Elio said as he took me for a tour of Le Dépanneur. “I remember reading my first chapter book in that corner over there. And in this back room, my mother used to lead a musical story hour on the weekends. She’d read picture books while I played guitar or piano to accompany her. It was always the highlight of my week, performing with my mother.” Elio was an only child, and cherished the moments he spent with his parents in the family store.

Once his mother got sick, Elio, who had been a freelance piano player with various arts performances after his graduation from the Oberlin Conservatory of Music, took over the operations of the store. She passed away due to complications from cancer in 2015, and Elio has been running the store by himself since then. “My mother was a beloved member of the community. After marrying my father, she moved with him from her home in Italy to his in New York, and opened the bookstore the year after I was born. Maman loved the bookstore, and it’s my legacy to keep it open. It’s the only independent bookstore in the neighborhood, and our customers love having a shop this personal on the Upper West Side.”

He took me around the shop to meet some regular customers and his few employees. An older Italian woman named Mafalda works the register on most mornings. She’s been working at the store since the day it opened, and was a friend of Elio’s grandmother when they lived in Italy. “I should have retired years ago, but the store keeps me going. I love this place, and I adore the customers, especially the children,” Mafalda said, after offering me a handful of snacks. Elio’s assistant manager is a cheerful young woman named Chiara, who had been hired by Elio’s mother when Chiara was in high school, and has worked at the store for over a decade. Elio’s best friend, Marzia Rossi, also Oberlin Class of 2009, works at the store part time while pursuing her PhD in history at NYU.

Did Elio expect to be running the bookstore a decade after graduating with a degree in music? “The bookstore is a haven for the neighborhood, and after my mom passed away, I couldn’t imagine selling it or closing it. This isn’t what I expected to do, but I’m glad that I can keep my mother’s legacy alive and provide an independent outlet for books and culture in my neighborhood. Maybe one day, I’ll return to music full-time, but for now, I love running the bookstore.”

…

* * *

**Reddit Conversation between Elio Perlman (MotherOfPerl) and Oliver Fox (NY152):**

**MotherOfPerl:** Please tell me you saw the videos of Carli Lloyd kicking some field goals with the Eagles during pre-season practice?

**NY152:** Obviously! That woman is a powerhouse.

**MotherOfPerl:** If she played handegg I might have to actually get myself to a game.

**NY152:** It’s still hilarious that you call football “handegg”.

**MotherOfPerl:** What?!? A “football” is shaped more like an egg than a ball, and it’s held in your hand. It should accurately be called handegg, not football.

**MotherOfPerl:** I was raised by a European, soccer is my football.

**NY152:** I much preferred soccer to football growing up, much to my father’s chagrin. I was always so bored when he took me to football games.

**MotherOfPerl:** The ever absent father who tried to buy your love with material objects and experiences that would make your friends jealous?

**NY152:** Bingo.

**MotherOfPerl:** We’ve been friends on Reddit for a few years now. How is it that we know each others’ deepest, darkest secrets, but I don’t even know your name?

**NY152:** Don’t you think the anonymity gives us the ability to speak openly about things without worrying what someone in real life thinks about it?

**MotherOfPerl:** You’re right. Weird to have found such a good confidante in a subreddit about the USWNT.

**NY152:** Anyway, I don’t think I can tell anyone in my actual life how nervous I am about something at work.

**MotherOfPerl:** What’s wrong?

**NY152:** I’m about to embark on a huge project, and if it fails, it’ll be completely my fault, and I’ll cost the company a ton of money. More than I can fathom, really.

**MotherOfPerl:** What makes you so sure you’re going to fail?

**NY152:** It’s a risky proposition. I hope it works out, and there are a lot of moving pieces.

**MotherOfPerl:** I hope it works out, for your sake.

**NY152:** Thanks.

**NY152:** I work for the family business, so I’m afraid of disappointing my father if things go wrong.

**MotherOfPerl:** Ah, so you’re constantly trying to impress him?

**NY152:** Something like that.

**MotherOfPerl:** I work in the family business, too. It’s not where I thought I’d end up, but I love it.

**NY152:** It’s where I’ve always been expected to end up. I don’t know if I love it, but I’ve never known anything else.

**MotherOfPerl:** Is there something else you’d rather be doing?

**NY152:** No idea. But it feels lonely sometimes, not being able to talk about frustrations with the business or my father.

**MotherOfPerl:** I am lonely, sometimes, but I dare say it’s good for me.

**NY152:** That’s profound. What’s that from? I mean, I could easily google it.

**MotherOfPerl:** Little Women.

**MotherOfPerl:** That was one of my mother’s favorite English language books.

**NY152:** Not sure I took you for an Alcott fan. Seems a little anti-feminist.

**MotherOfPerl:** She’s great, and it's super feminist! At least the first half. My mother used to read Little Women to me a lot when I was young. She thought it was important that I read books about strong female protagonists. She said that from that time period, none were stronger than Jo March.

**NY152:** I guess I don’t disagree with that.

* * *

**Email from Elio Perlman to his father, Samuel Perlman**

Hey Papa,

I hope your semester is starting well. Le Dépanneur has been having a good few weeks, with parents frantically trying to find their kids’ summer reading lists and college students buying their books for the semester.

Can I ask you a personal question? I’m doing this over email instead of text because I needed to think things through. How do you know if someone is the one? You and maman said it was love at first sight, but how did you know? (I won’t even get into asking about Cynthia. You both found each other at the right time, as you were both healing after a long period of mourning and you worked well together. But I know maman was your one true love, and Bill was hers. I know you two are happy together.)

Frank’s lease is up in a couple of months, and we need to decide what to do. We’ve been together for a year and a half. Things are good. But do we want to live together? That feels like a big, definitive step, and I still just don’t know if he’s the one. I should know by now, shouldn’t I? I guess it’s not that big of a commitment on my end if he moves in. If things go sour, he’s the one who would have to move out because it’s my apartment. I’ve just never lived with a partner before, and I’m not sure when to take that leap. Asking him to move in feels like I’m making a choice, and I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.

I miss you, and wish you were still teaching on the east coast, but I understand the allure of LA in the winter. Send my love to Cynthia, and scratch Barkus Arelius’ belly for me.

Love,

Elio

PS: I still can’t believe that Cynthia talked you into getting a dog. Even more unbelievable is how obsessed you are with it.

* * *

**Email from Samuel Perlman to Elio:**

My dearest Elly Belly,

Classes are good. California is wonderfully laid back, and you should seriously consider moving out here. Not just because I’m selfish and want my only child living closer to me. Cynthia says hello, and Barkus wants you to come visit so he can lick your face. I love this dog because he loves me unconditionally and doesn’t talk back in three different languages. And I’m glad I learned later in life that there’s nothing better than getting home from work and being greeted by your adoring dog. I promise that your life would be fuller if you had a dog, too.

Your mother and I were special. We both knew after one date that we’d found the one. It’s why we were married within a year. That type of certainty rarely happens, even with soulmates. Don’t use us to set your expectations. Does Frank make you happy? Do you see yourself planning a life with him? Would you be gutted if he were to leave you tomorrow? I think you need to do what feels right for you. If you want to live together, you should ask him to move in. If you don’t see him being in your life for the long-term, then don’t, but maybe that’s your indication to end things. 

Do you love him? Are you in love? Are you still making love at the same frequency? You don’t always need to have any of these, in order to be happy (well, you’re my son, and I know you probably require the latter), but you’re such a loving and affectionate person, and I want you to to have the world. You deserve a man or woman who is going to treat you like you are the greatest person they’ve ever met, because you most certainly will be.

For the record, it’s not YOUR apartment. It’s still technically mine, that I let you live in as long as you pay the condo fees and the property taxes. It’ll officially be yours one day, when I have shuffled off this mortal coil. But if you would like Frank to live there with you, I would not be opposed.

Why has he started writing quizzes for Buzzfeed? I thought he was hired to do hard-hitting political pieces? Though, we did take his “Which Robin Williams Movie Are You?” quiz. I am apparently Mrs. Doubtfire, and Cynthia is The Birdcage. He’s putting that Northwestern degree to good use.

I love you and miss you,

Papa

* * *

**Email from Elio to his father**

Papa,

Frank’s op-eds and thoroughly researched pieces weren’t receiving enough clicks, and clicks buy advertisers which brings in money. He’s required to hit a certain number of clicks a month, which means he has to write mindless fluff like quizzes and listicles. That’s the world we live in now. He’s working on a freelance piece for The Atlantic, but at least Buzzfeed has given him a steady salary.

I think I’m just going to avoid the inevitable for now. I like being with him, but I don’t know if it’s forever. I’ll wait until he has to start looking for new apartments or receives the paperwork to renew his lease for another year. If I let Frank make the first move, then I’ll know where his head is at, since I don’t really want to instigate any conversation. Our relationship has been comfortable. The sex has been good and consistent (you’re the one who brought it up…). I still need to figure out that love stuff.

I miss having you in New York, though I do appreciate you giving me the apartment. I know it was hard for you to live here after maman passed, and California has been great for you, but I miss living in the same city and seeing you a few times a week. If I ever get married and/or have kids, will you move back here? Do Cynthia’s grandkids get a larger claim on you because they’re the reason you moved out there in the first place?

A group of customers just came in, so I’m going to help them out. I’ll call you tonight.

Love,

Elio

* * *

**Text between Oliver Fox and his girlfriend, Eden Hayes**

**Eden:** Oliver, where are you? I’ve tried calling you five times.

**Eden:** OLLLIEEEEEEEEE PICK UP YOUR PHONE

**Oliver:** Sorry, I’m in a meeting, I can’t talk right now.

**Oliver:** Everything okay?

**Eden:** Everything’s fine. I just wanted to know which dress you think I should buy for the Wassermans’ cocktail party.

**Oliver:** Can it wait?

**Eden:** I need to place the order by 5PM so it arrives by tomorrow.

**Oliver:** The black one, I guess?

**Eden:** None of them were black. The Dior is midnight blue. Did you mean that one?

**Oliver:** Probably.

**Eden:** And you’ll wear the Armani you bought in Milan in the spring?

**Oliver:** If that’s what you think I should wear.

**Eden:** Don’t forget to make an appointment for a haircut and a shave. We can’t show up looking like slobs.

**Oliver:** Does it really matter? It’s just my father’s friend’s party.

**Eden:** No it isn’t. It’s the social event of the late summer for anyone in publishing and the book industry. Anyone who’s anyone will be there, and we have to be on top of our game.

**Eden:** The publisher from Macmillan is going to be there, and I’d like to be on my way to the C-suite there in a few years. This is a good opportunity for both of us.

**Oliver:** I guess you’re right.

**Eden:** Also, do you think you can get us a reservation at Ichimura at Uchu? You’ve been promising to take me there so we can do the omakase tasting menu.

**Oliver:** It’s $300 a person. Shouldn’t we save it for a special occasion?

**Eden:** Is a Saturday night with your girlfriend not a special occasion?

**Oliver:** I suppose it is. I’ll ask my assistant to call and get us in.

**Oliver:** I need to pay attention to my meeting. I’ll see you when I get home.

**Eden:** XOXO

* * *

**Text between Oliver and his best friend, Kevin Washington**

**Oliver:** Kev, are you going to the Wasserman party?

**Kevin:** I’ll be there.

**Oliver:** Thank God. I need someone to keep me busy while Eden is trying to schmooze her way into a promotion or a job.

**Kevin:** Jessie and I will attack the whiskey with you.

**Kevin:** Or get stuck talking to Aaron Koslowsky. If I have to hear one more story about the Whiffenpoofs…

**Oliver:** He was the WORST person in my MBA cohort. Just despicable.

**Kevin:** Worse than Eden?

**Oliver:** HEY!

**Kevin:** I’m sorry, but you left that one wide open, and I take the easy shots when I can.

**Oliver:** It’s fine, dude.

**Oliver:** You know she takes potshots at you at any opportunity.

**Kevin:** She’s just threatened by my good looks and my sharp wit.

**Oliver:** I wonder Eden and Jessie say about us when we’re not around.

**Kevin:** I think I know what Eden says.

**Kevin:** “Oh, despite his height, you’d be surprised by how underwhelming Oliver is!”

**Oliver:** FUCK YOU :P

**Kevin:** I love you, too.


	2. Chapter Two

_**Instagram Stories by marzia.rossi** _

_**Picture:**_ Construction awnings on 79th and Broadway

_**Caption:**_ Ughhhh construction is the worst.

_**Picture:**_ Construction crane at 79th and Broadway

_**Caption:**_ What the hell are they building here? Anyone know?

_**Picture:**_ Handsome young construction workers

_**Caption:**_ At least the view is nice, even if the sound is annoying AF.

_**Picture:**_ “Coming Soon: Congo Bookstore”

_**Caption:**_ BUY LOCAL. SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL INDEPENDENT BOOKSTORE.

_**Picture:**_ Marzia’s raised middle finger in front of the Congo Bookstore sign.

_**Caption:**_ FUCK THIS CORPORATE BULLSHIT! Shop at Le Dépanneur!

* * *

_**Instagram messages between Elio (elioperlman) and Marzia (marzia.rossi)** _

**elioperlman:** reacted to Marzia’s story with shocked face

**elioperlman:** what the actual fuck?????

**marzia.rossi:** was going to ask you the same question!

**elioperlman:** I’ve lost enough business to people buying from Congo at home. Now they’re opening a store????

**elioperlman:** is it a joke? An art exhibit? Like when Gem Spa became Schitibank?

**marzia.rossi:** I googled it. It’s a real bookstore. There's already one in Seattle.

**elioperlman:** FUCK! You saw that sign at 79th? That’s what the construction’s been?

**marzia.rossi:** Yeah, I googled it. A real store.

**elioperlman:** fuck fuck fuck shit fuck fuck motherfucker FUCKKKKKKKKK

**elioperlman:** does it really have to be a block from our store?

**marzia.rossi:** The bookstore outlived Borders. Hell, we might get more foot traffic a day right now than the Barnes and Noble on 84th.

**marzia.rossi:** And the Barnes and Noble on 66th is now a Century 21. But we're still alive. So we’re doing fine.

**elioperlman:** but they’re going to be able to undercut us by nearly 50%.

**marzia.rossi:** you’re worrying for nothing. The store hasn’t even opened yet. We’ll be fine, babe.

**elioperlman:** I hope so.

* * *

_**Texts between Oliver and his aunt, Addison** _

**Addison:** Hey Ollie! I just got back to Scarsdale.

**Addison:** Thanks for taking Mason and me around for the day. I had SOOOO much fun in the city!

**Oliver:** You’re welcome, Addy! I had a fun time today, too.

**Addison:** That’s Aunt Addison to you.

**Oliver:** You’re welcome, Aunt Addison.

**Addison:** It’s not fair that you and Mason both get to live in Manhattan.

**Oliver:** Well, I’m an adult, so I get to choose where I live. And it’s where my dad and Astrid chose to raise Mason.

**Addison:** When I’m an adult, I’m going to live in a penthouse in Manhattan like Mason does. He’s too young to appreciate it.

**Oliver:** So are you, Addy.

**Oliver:** Excuse me, Aunt Addison. I feel so sorry for you, living in a mansion in Scarsdale.

**Addison:** You grew up in Manhattan!

**Addison:** In like the 60s, when everything was scary and dangerous!

**Oliver:** The 60s? How old do you think I am? I was born in 1984!

**Addison:** I know how old you are, Ollie. You are older than Astrid, though.

**Oliver:** Don’t remind me.

**Oliver:** You know I’m just joking with you, right? The sarcasm isn’t mean?

**Addison:** I know.

**Oliver:** We moved to Seattle when I was a teenager, anyway. I missed the Nirvana and Pearl Jam years there, and the Strokes and Yeah Yeah Yeahs years in New York. Great timing on my dad’s part.

**Addison:** I have no idea what any of that means.

**Oliver:** Remind me to teach you about good music some day.

**Addison:** I listen to good music! I love k-pop!

**Oliver:** Oy vey.

**Addison:** You should take us back to Levain Bakery and that bookstore again next time I come in.

**Oliver:** You know our family owns a book company, right?

**Addison:** Yeah, but we aren’t owned by a hot guy with a guitar who sings songs and reads to little kids.

**Addison:** I think he was flirting with me.

**Oliver:** You’re 12. He wasn’t flirting with you.

**Addison:** Maybe he’s gay and was flirting with you.

**Addison:** I liked him way more than I like Eden.

**Oliver:** Eden just doesn’t know how to talk to kids. She’ll grow on you.

**Addison:** No she won’t. And I’m not a kid.

**Addison:** At Passover, she talked to me like I was Mason’s age.

**Oliver:** She tries her best.

**Addison:** I’m glad she wasn’t with us today, though. It was more fun just you, me, and Mason.

**Addison:** It’s fun hanging out with my nephews.

**Oliver:** I won’t tell Eden you said that.

**Addison:** It was really funny when the guy from the bookstore thought Mason and I were your kids and couldn’t understand how I could possibly be your aunt.

**Oliver:** Not everyone has families as weird as ours. With fathers and grandfathers who marry very young wives.

**Addison:** What was his name. Leo?

**Oliver:** I think he may have been Italian, I believe his name was Elio.

**Addison:** Elio. That’s a nice name.

**Addison:** I thought Mason would never stop laughing when Elio jokingly suggested that Mason and I were your grandparents.

**Oliver:** It was pretty funny, and easy to understand how he’d get that confused. Mason's balding, and you've got a lot of gray hair.

**Addison:** I DO NOT! The streaks are purple! They're just fading!

**Oliver:** It’s been fun chatting with you, Bubbe Addy, but I’ve got to get to bed.

**Addison:** Good night!

* * *

_**Text messages between Elio and Marzia** _

**Elio:** Are you sitting down right now?

**Marzia:** I’m in class. Everything okay?

**Elio:** Remember Oliver, the guy from Saturday, the one I thought was a father?

**Elio:** Who was there with his aunt who is 25 years younger than he is? And a brother who’s maybe in kindergarten?

**Marzia:** He’s definitely entered my thoughts once or twice since then. Maybe while holding my shower head.

**Marzia:** He was hot. And really good with kids.

**Elio:** Guess who he is?

**Marzia:** Chris Evans?

**Marzia:** I bet he could compete for America’s ass. Those skinny jeans looked good.

**Elio:** He’s Oliver FOX.

**Marzia:** Is that supposed to mean something?

**Elio:** His dad is Bruce Fox. The CEO of Congo?

**Marzia:** OH. SHIT.

**Elio:** Yeah.

**Marzia:** How’d you figure that one out?

**Elio:** He’s speaking at the booksellers’ conference at the Javits Center.

**Elio:** About the importance of customer engagement in an era of e-commerce. Or some bullshit like that.

**Marzia:** So… do you think he came into the store to spy?

**Elio:** I went over to him and accused him of that, yes.

**Elio:** He claims his brother saw the sign about storytime and wanted to come in.

**Marzia:** Sure…

**Elio:** We had a pretty lengthy conversation and I told him my thoughts on Congo and how it puts businesses like mine in tough positions.

**Marzia:** I’m sure he loved that.

**Elio:** He didn’t seem too phased. Smug tall handsome Harvard asshole.

**Elio:** UGH I AM SO ANGRY

**Elio:** I was already dreading this conference and he just made it a thousand times worse.

**Elio:** And to think, I was thinking about trying to set him up with Chiara, I thought she would have liked him. I didn’t realize he was the enemy.

**Marzia:** Want to finish a bottle of wine with me tonight and drink away your anger?

**Elio:** Yes please.

* * *

_**Slack Messages between Oliver and his father, Bruce Fox** _

**Oliver:** Hey, dad, you in New York?

**Bruce:** No, I’m in Seattle. What’s wrong?

**Oliver:** Nothing. Just getting in my head about everything.

**Bruce:** About the store?

**Oliver:** Yeah. I just have a bad feeling about everything.

**Oliver:** I was in charge, and if it doesn’t work out, I’m going to cost us millions.

**Bruce:** It’s not supposed to actually make us money, you know that, right? Infiltrate the market, gain customer loyalty, kill the competition, then raise prices.

**Oliver:** That feels disingenuous. Also, I can’t not TRY to make it successful.

**Bruce:** That’s my overachiever.

**Bruce:** We can afford to take the hit and keep it open for a few years.

**Oliver:** But what if it gets us bad PR?

**Bruce:** It won’t. The Seattle store has gone well, and it’s given us brownie points with the public.

**Bruce:** I think it will do fairly well in New York. We did market research before picking the location.

**Oliver:** I’m just nervous. Everything is ready for the opening, but I think I have jitters.

**Bruce:** You’re going to do great, son.

**Oliver:** Thanks, dad.

**Bruce:** How’d it go at the conference?

**Oliver:** It went well. I was able to convince some publishers to do exclusive pre-sales with us.

**Bruce:** Wonderful!

**Oliver:** Not everyone loved us, though.

**Bruce:** That’s business, unfortunately. When you’re the biggest game in town, some people are going to dislike you.

**Oliver:** There was one bookstore owner, who owns a shop around the corner from where the brick and mortar is. I ran into him at the conference, and then again this weekend at Jessie’s birthday party.

**Oliver:** He made it very clear how much he hated my guts.

**Bruce:** Which bookstore? The mystery shop?

**Oliver:** The one with the French name that sells a lot of kids' books. LeDepanair?

**Bruce:** Le Dépanneur.

**Oliver:** Yeah, that’s it.

**Oliver:** The owner has been slowly trying to tear me a new one. He’s so outspoken and obnoxious as hell.

**Bruce:** I remember his mother. She opened the shop in the 80s.

**Bruce:** She was a total delight. Maybe Italian and French?

**Oliver:** I couldn’t quite put my finger on where in Europe his family was from, but that sounds right. Italian first name, French shop name.

**Bruce:** Jewish, too. His mother Annella was beautiful. She and her husband, a professor at Columbia I believe, went to my synagogue.

**Bruce:** They were friends with everyone. What a lovely family.

**Oliver:** Well, her son’s not so nice.

**Bruce:** The little moppet with the curly hair runs the bookstore now? Time flies.

**Oliver:** Says we’re going to put him out of business.

**Bruce:** I mean… we might. But, that’s business for you.

**Oliver:** I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s picketing in front of the store every day.

**Oliver:** In a case of it being a small world, his boyfriend and Kevin’s wife interned at Conde Nast together after college. So after he chastised me at the conference, we ran into each other again a few days later at Jessies’ birthday.

**Bruce:** New York can be a shockingly small place.

**Oliver:** When I took Mason and Addy out last week, we wound up at his store. Mason saw the sign for storytime and dragged us in.

**Bruce:** Oh! That’s where you went! He hasn’t shut up about it since then.

**Bruce:** Astrid said he keeps asking the afternoon nanny to take him to the bookstore and she had no idea what he meant. Must be that one. It’s a great little spot.

**Oliver:** We had a good time there. Shame Elio turned out to be such a jerk.

**Bruce:** Maybe he’s just worried about his own business like you’re worried about the store.

**Oliver:** Perhaps.

* * *

**Snippet from an article from the _Wall Street Journal_ article, “ _Congo Flows into Manhattan, Floods Upper West Side with Low Cost Books_ ”**

Congo Inc. (NASDAQ: CNGO), one of the world’s largest corporations, opened its first brick and mortar store in New York City yesterday morning. Customers lined up as early as 4AM to be among the first to shop at the new store.

“I do nearly all of my shopping on Congo, so I was excited when a store was opening down the block from me,” Becca Rivkin, 42, said. “This is going to make it even easier to get books and other things immediately, at their cheap prices!”

The CEO of Congo, Bruce Fox, hopes that New York will be as receptive to the store as its native Seattle, and believes that it fills a niche that other local stores can’t provide, with a guarantee of next day delivery for any products not currently available in the store.

“The reception today was even greater than we could have anticipated,” Director of Book Acquisition, Oliver Fox said. “We look forward to serving the community and providing accessible prices.”

* * *

_**Reddit message, from Elio (MotherOfPerl) to Oliver (NY152):** _

I wish you were online right now. I just need to vent to someone, and I think you would be able to help talk me down.

In the past week, I learned that someone I met recently whom I thought was a nice and interesting person is actually a terrible human being. Comes from a long line of terrible people who enjoy destroying lives. And then I ran into this person several times this week. I tried to speak my mind, but felt flustered and upset each time. This person might completely ruin my professional life, and I’m nervous about the future. 

Hope all is well and that project you were worried about worked out for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments on my first chapter! I'm glad you were all so receptive to this idea! I'm still playing around with how I want to display the texts/chats/news articles/etc., so if the current layouts (just pasting the text here and bolding who said what) are hard to follow, let me know, and I can try other things.


	3. Chapter Three

_**Email from Elio to his father, Samuel Perlman** _

Papa,

We lost so much business in the past two weeks, since the Congo store opened. I’ve been offering discounts, but I haven’t been able to compete. I hope it’s just the excitement of having a new store, and it’s not a harbinger of things to come.

I wish I’d studied business in college instead of music. Maybe I’d know what to do if I had more of a background in this.

Maman would know what to do. I miss her so much right now.

Love,

Elio

* * *

_**Post on Oliver's Instagram Account** _

**Picture:** Mason in his soccer uniform

**Caption:** So proud of my little brother! Mason scored his first ever goal in soccer!

* * *

**_Email from Elio to all bookstore employees:_ **

Hi team,

It’s been nearly a month since the store we do not mention opened, and we need to start taking drastic actions. Sales are down almost 50% from this time last year. We have enough cash in reserve that we haven’t had to cut anyone’s hours yet, but I’m not sure how much longer we can last.

Does anyone have any ideas for how we can gain new customers or retain our old ones? We’re all hands on deck right now.

-Elio

\---

_**Reply-all from Chiara:** _

Not to worry anyone, but we’ve had two authors cancel signings in the next month. Maybe we need to advertise more? Beg our loyal customers to spend even more money here? I’m tapped out.

-Chiara

\---

_**Reply-all from Marzia:** _

We should try to go viral. Get people to post about us on Instagram and Twitter. Get old people to talk about us on Facebook. 

What if we let them tape Law and Order here for a day and have someone get murdered in the store on the show? People would love to come here after that! We’d be a tourist destination, and we can sell shirts commemorating it!

Or, why don’t you ask Frank to write a piece for _Buzzfeed_ about us? A scrappy little UWS bookstore, a beloved neighborhood haunt, being threatened by the corporate overlords. People would eat shit that up.

-Marzia

\---

_**Reply from Elio to Marzia** _

M,

I can’t ask Frank to write about Le Dépanneur. That’s got to be a conflict of interest somehow.

-E

\---

_**Reply from Marzia to Elio** _

My dearest Elly Belly,

Maybe you can’t ask him, but I can.

Meet me at Jin Ramen for dinner tonight?

Your very best friend in the world,

Marzia Francesca Rossi

\---

_**Reply from Elio to Marzia** _

M,

A) You know only my father can call me that.

B) Please don’t? That would just make things even more awkward than they are.

C) Yes please.

D) Barkus Aurelius Dorfman-Perlman is giving you a run for your money.

-E

* * *

_**Reddit conversation between Elio (MotherOfPerl) and Oliver (NY152)** _

**NY152:** Sorry I’ve been so busy lately, but my work project has been all-consuming.

**MotherOfPerl:** In a good way or a bad way?

**NY152:** A great way. It’s going much better than I could have possibly anticipated.

**MotherOfPerl:** That’s great news!

**NY152:** Yeah, I’d just like to have my life back one of these days.

**NY152:** My dad’s been happy about it, though.

**MotherOfPerl:** You said you’re always worried about disappointing him, so at least he’s happy!

**NY152:** Until the next disappointment. If not professional, then personal. It’s always something.

**MotherOfPerl:** My father, on the other hand, always tells me to pursue my dreams and says he’s happy as long as I am.

**NY152:** I wish I had that.

**MotherOfPerl:** My mother was similar to my Dad. Maybe gave a little bit more tough love, but she always just wanted what was best for me. I think all parents do, in the end. Your father means well, I’m sure.

**NY152:** You’ve only ever spoken about your mother in the past tense. Has she passed?

**MotherOfPerl:** Yeah, she died four years ago. Pancreatic cancer. I miss her every day.

**NY152:** I’m sorry to hear that.

**MotherOfPerl:** Me too. I inherited her business, and run it now.

**MotherOfPerl:** I own a store. Have I ever told you that?

**NY152:** No, you never have.

**MotherOfPerl:** I tried to keep everything status quo, and things worked for a few years, but lately, I just don’t know if we’re making enough to stay in business.

**NY152:** You said this wasn’t what you saw yourself doing in life?

**MotherOfPerl:** No, it’s not at all what I wanted to do, but I love it. I think.

**MotherOfPerl:** Makes me feel closer to my mother, anyway.

**MotherOfPerl:** I just wish I knew when to move on to the next thing.

**NY152:** Sounds like there’s a lot of sentiment going into the decision, and not just economics.

**NY152:** It’s hard to separate the two when it’s a family business.

**MotherOfPerl:** Exactly. How do I know when to tell my employees we’re done, and close for good?

**MotherOfPerl:** Before I throw all of my savings into the store and bankrupt myself?

**NY152:** Meet with a business analyst? They might be able to provide unbiased guidance.

**MotherOfPerl:** Maybe. I grew up with this store. People depend on it. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.

**NY152:** Now you’re speaking my language.

* * *

_**Snippet from a Buzzfeed article, “Top Ten Things About My Favorite Local Bookstore” by Frank Walker** _

…

_ Number 4: The old-school charm _

Le Dépanneur opened in 1989, and when you step inside, it’s as if you’ve taken a time machine. Sure, they’ve got wifi and modern amenities now, but they just don’t make stores like this anymore. With books from floor to ceiling, if what you’re looking for is on a shelf you can’t reach, you can ask an employee to climb up on a ladder to grab a book for you. Remember the Beast’s library from Beauty and the Beast? Belle’s reaction to the library will be your reaction when you walk into the store.

_ Number 3: The history _

Ask anyone on the Upper West Side about Le Dépanneur, and they’ll tell you about its first owner, Annella Perlman. Everyone west of the park knew her name, and loved her store. Annella was a beloved member of the community, and on weekends, the store would be overcrowded with families waiting for her to read and sing at story time. Her son, Elio, who now runs the store, has continued the tradition.

_ Number 2: Musical Story Hour _

As mentioned above, musical story hour is a delight, for children and parents alike. I’ve brought my three year old nephew several times, and he just adores singing along to children’s songs and seeing the innovative ways the owner* finds to weave music into his reading of picture books. There’s nothing else like it in Manhattan.

_ Number 1: The staff _

You will not find a nicer, more knowledgeable, or in my opinion, better-looking, staff at any other bookstore in New York City. Looking for a romance novel in French? They’ll be able to recommend _cinq_. A biography about an obscure player in the First Sino-Japanese war? They’ll have it in stock. The kind, accommodating staff of Le Dépanneur are sure to help you find whatever you need. Come for a visit, and I guarantee it’ll become your favorite bookstore, too.

_ * (written in a very small font below the article and the “About the Author” section)  _ **Author disclosure:** I have long-standing personal relationships with the owner of the store and several of the staff members. My opinions still stand, regardless of personal relationships, and I loved this bookstore before I befriended anyone involved with the store.

* * *

_**Texts between Elio and his boyfriend, Frank Walker** _

**Frank:** Did you watch my interview on NY1 this morning?

**Elio:** I did, it was great!

**Elio:** I can’t believe the piece about the store went viral

**Frank:** That’s the internet. You never know what’s going to catch on.

**Elio:** It seems to have struck a chord. Helped people remember why they like shopping at independent bookstores.

**Elio:** I’ve been getting messages on social media and emails from people all over the country.

**Frank:** That’s great! Is it helping business at all?

**Elio:** I think so. Let’s just hope it’s sustainable.

**Frank:** This was good for me, too. The TV exposure could get me more freelance gigs at more prestigious publications.

**Frank:** It was fun, I liked being on screen.

**Elio:** You certainly looked like you were having fun.

**Elio:** You were flirting with the reporter.

**Frank:** I was not!

**Elio:** You complimented his bowtie. We make fun of people who exclusively wear bowties.

**Frank:** It had Corgis on it! I did like it!

**Elio:** Also, you told him that his eyes really sparkled.

**Frank:** We were under bright lights! And I was nervous!

**Elio:** Sorry, was ringing up a customer while Mafalda was playing with the customer’s baby.

**Elio:** Can I ask you one question, though?

**Frank:** Sure.

**Elio:** How come you didn’t call me your boyfriend in the piece?

**Frank:** My editor thought that it would ring less like an advertisement if I just said personal relationship.

**Elio:** It didn’t bother me, but I was just wondering about it.

**Elio:** Thank you for writing the article, though. I really appreciated you going out on a limb for me.

**Frank:** You’re welcome. 

**Frank:** The piece is the highest hitter on the east coast for Buzzfeed this week, they want me to write more local interest pieces. If this means fewer listicles, I’ll be forever grateful.

* * *

_**Le Dépanneur’s Instagram Stories** _

**Story 1:** A video of a crowd of protesters standing outside of the Congo store, holding signs and chanting.

**Story 2:** Elio leading some chants, with Mafalda and Chiara in the background handing fliers and signs to passersby.

**Story 3:** Elio with a megaphone, talking about what his bookstore has meant to his family, and how corporations are ruining small businesses.

**Story 4:** Selfie of Marzia, who has been recording the videos, holding a sign that reads “ConGo Away”

**Story 5:** Elio speaking into a megaphone, while Oliver shields his eyes in the background, walking into the store.

* * *

_**Slack message between Oliver and his father, Bruce Fox** _

**Oliver:** Le Dépanneur organized a protest outside of the store. Business is dead today, people are afraid they’re crossing a union picket line or something.

**Bruce:** I assumed someone would do something like this eventually. Happened with the Seattle store. We survived it.

**Oliver:** It’s hard to not take it personally, though.

**Bruce:** You’ll develop a tougher skin eventually.

**Bruce:** Sometimes you have to take out your competitors in order to survive. It’s business.

**Oliver:** You love saying that business is supposed to be this way, but it doesn’t make me feel less bad.

**Oliver:** Is a small bookstore even our competitor?

**Bruce:** We sell books. Any place that sells a book, where the customer is not buying the book from Congo, is competition.

**Oliver:** Sometimes I wonder if we need to spread our wings as much as we do

**Bruce:** If we didn’t, someone else would. At least you’ve reaped the benefits.

**Oliver:** Have I?

**Bruce:** It paid for both of your Harvard degrees. And your penthouse apartment.

**Oliver:** Except I was raised by nannies because you were always at work, sometimes on a different coast, and Mom was off at whatever wellness retreat was in fashion that week.

**Oliver:** And now, you’re in Seattle half of the time while Mason is in Manhattan. He sees me more than he sees you. At least Astrid is more present for him than Mom was for me, but he misses you.

**Bruce:** Mason understands. And I’m just laying the groundwork to pass the company on to you.

**Oliver:** Does he? After he scored his first goal at soccer, a game I was at, but neither you nor Astrid were, all he wanted to know was if I had taken a video to show you.

**Bruce:** One day, he’ll understand that it was for him, like you understand everything I did for you.

**Oliver:** I know that Congo is an important part of our lives, but sometimes I wish we prioritized family.

**Bruce:** I do prioritize our family. I've given us, and future generations of Foxes, financial stability and wealth.

**Oliver:** Money isn't always everything.

* * *

_**Texts between Oliver and his girlfriend, Eden Hayes** _

**Eden:** I’m going to be home late tonight.

**Eden:** Had to fit in a trip with my personal shopper at Bergdorf’s. I need a new dress for the publisher’s gala.

**Eden:** So I’m going to the evening Soul Cycle class instead. You would not believe the strings I had to pull to get a seat at the last minute.

**Oliver:** Should I have dinner without you?

**Eden:** Can you wait for me? It’s supposed to be date night! I’ll bring us take out.

**Oliver:** Sure.

* * *

_**Reddit conversation between Elio (MotherOfPerl) and Oliver (NY152)** _

**NY152:** Families are so infuriating. I sometimes wish I didn’t work for my father.

**MotherOfPerl:** Can you quit your job?

**NY152:** No. There’s too much riding on it. My father said he’s laid the groundwork for me to inherit his company.

**MotherOfPerl:** At least it won’t be sudden for you, like it was for me.

**NY152:** I’ve known I’d inherit it my entire life. But now my father is close to an age where retirement is a possibility, and it feels more real.

**NY152:** Not the immediate future, but in the next decade. I don’t know if I want it.

**MotherOfPerl:** What would happen if you didn’t take it?

**NY152:** It’s never been a possibility, so I’m not sure.

**MotherOfPerl:** Sometimes I regret keeping my mom’s shop open. I feel like a failure.

**NY152:** I’m sure you’re not.

**MotherOfPerl:** We’ve got maybe a month left in us before I need to close. We’re bleeding money and customers.

**MotherOfPerl:** I met with a business advisor, like you suggested, and she said that if things don’t turn around in the next month, I should sell off our assets and call it.

**NY152:** I’m so sorry. I know it was important to you.

**MotherOfPerl:** It’s like losing a second home.

**MotherOfPerl:** I’m not ready to give up, but the advisor said I need to stop letting sentiment drive my decision-making.

**NY152:** It’s hard to not get attached when it’s been a part of your whole life.

**MotherOfPerl:** I feel like we’re on the same wavelength all the time.

**NY152:** I agree.

**NY152:** I think we should meet in person.

**MotherOfPerl:** You do?

**NY152:** Yes. An anonymous sounding board on the internet is great, but maybe we’d give better advice if we were friends in real life.

**MotherOfPerl:** I thought you preferred the anonymity?

**NY152:** Opinions can change. Friendships can grow.

**MotherOfPerl:** You’re not actually some lecherous old man who just wants to take pictures of my feet, are you?

**NY152:** What do you think?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le Dépanneur means the corner store/convenience store in French. The bookstore in You've Got Mail was the Shop Around the Corner (because the movie it was based on was called The Shop Around the Corner). Figured I'd explain why I chose that random name.
> 
> I'm trying to finish writing this story before I go back to Next of Kin or Somewhere in North Brooklyn. I've not abandoned either of those, I promise! Just trying to finish this story before the Big Bang is over!
> 
> I forgot to give credit in the first chapter, but the name Barkus Aurelius was suggested by the wonderful ShesGoneRogue!
> 
> Thank you all for your support and comments/kudos. I'm glad you're all enjoying this weird epistolary adventure.


	4. Chapter Four

_**Emails between Elio and his father, Samuel Perlman** _

Papa,

The business advisor I met with said that if things don’t turn around, Le Dépanneur will be in really bad financial shape in a month. I’m going to give it four more weeks, and then I’m going to have to close the store. What would maman have done?

It seems like my entire life is at a crossroads right now. I still don’t know if I want Frank to move in. How do you know if you’re still in love with someone, or ever really were in love? I just feel like we’re drifting further and further apart, and I’m not sure either of us is that upset by it. I have more chemistry with a friend I met on Reddit and have never met in person than I do with Frank at the moment.

When are you going to be in NY next? I miss you. Can’t you just convince Cynthia to move all of her kids and grandkids to New York? Or even (insert horrified shudders), New Jersey? It can’t possibly be that hard to uproot an entire family just for my sake. If you moved back here, there’s the entirety of Central Park for Barkus to explore, and I can promise to give him all of the belly rubs.

Love,

Elio

\---

Elly Belly,

I’m so sorry about Le Dépanneur. I’m still holding out hope that things will turn around. Let me know if you need me to fly back and help out with anything. You know I’m always here for you, even if we live in different time zones.

If you’re still dithering about having Frank move in, at this point, I think you have your answer. He’s never been anything but cordial and friendly to me, and it’s not as if you’ve had a bad relationship, but if you aren’t sure if you love him anymore, you might have already made your mind up. I don’t want to push you in either direction. If you and Frank get married one day, I’d gladly welcome him into the family. If you broke up tomorrow, I’d also support your decision. You are 32 years old (I just had to do the math in my head. Please don’t feel bad about that, I never remember how old I am at this point), and you shouldn’t spend any time in a relationship because you feel obligated. I sound like a broken record, but you deserve to be with someone you love, and who loves you.

Frank’s piece on Le Dépanneur was surprisingly thoughtful. I’m shocked that his editors let him publish a piece about the store, given your relationship, but what do I know about journalistic integrity. I take it the surge in business was fleeting? I did watch his interview on NY1. I hope you realized that he was flirting with the news anchor who always wears the absurd bowties. Also, I took his “What Popstar Best Matches Your Personality” quiz, and I am apparently a green-haired girl named Billie Eilish. I am withholding snark about being sure The Economist is just dying to get their hands on his writing skills. The piece he wrote that Slate published last year was actually really well-written and researched. Even if you do break up, you should encourage him to find a better outlet for his talent.

I don’t think we can move back just yet. We just arrived last year! But, if you can somehow procure me a grandchild, preferably of the human variety (though I do think you would very much enjoy being a dog parent. Having a dog is utterly delightful), maybe we can start splitting our time between coasts once we retire.

I know I sometimes have a jovial tone when I email you, but I am truly sorry that Le Dépanneur is faltering. I loved that store just as much as you and your mother did. Our family, and the neighborhood, will truly be at a loss if it closes. The bookstore has brought so much joy into the lives of many.

Love,

Papa

PS: Attached is a picture of Barkus and Cyntha’s grandkids from Halloween. Barkus is Yoda, and Dylan is Luke Skywalker, and Ava is Rey. Aren’t they all just adorable? Barkus in particular. Don’t tell Cynthia I said that.

* * *

_**Texts between Elio and Marzia** _

**Elio:** How do you think Mafalda and Chiara will take it when we have to close next month?

**Marzia:** What about me? I work there for like ten hours a week.

**Elio:** Yeah, but you only work there while you’re in school. This isn’t your career. You just do it so we can spend time together.

**Marzia:** Wrong. I do it for the money, baby. That $20 an hour really pads my savings account.

**Elio:** I’m being serious, M.

**Marzia:** I know, I’m just trying to lighten the mood.

**Elio:** I realized that.

**Marzia:** I’ve talked to Mafalda about it. She’s probably going to retire. She only works at the store now because she loves you and loves the customers. She doesn’t need to be working.

**Marzia:** And Chiara will survive. She’s an excellent manager, and knows children’s books better than anyone. She’ll find a job immediately.

**Elio:** I hope so. I just feel like I’m disappointing my mother somehow.

**Marzia:** Your mother loved you unconditionally. And, I think given the circumstances, she would have made the same difficult decision you’re making.

**Elio:** It’s really hard.

**Marzia:** That’s what she said.

**Marzia:** That was a generic sex joke. Not a reference to your mother.

**Marzia:** I’LL STOP NOW. I’M SORRY.

**Elio:** It’s okay. You’re making me laugh.

**Marzia:** What does Frank think?

**Elio:** I don’t even know. He’s been busy at work, and I haven’t seen him for a few days.

**Marzia:** Everything okay in paradise?

**Elio:** No. I think we’re nearing the end of our relationship. One of us just needs to have the courage to actually end it.

**Marzia:** Want me to break up with him for you?

**Elio:** As much as you’d love that, I think I have to do it myself.

**Elio:** I’m not even sure we’re breaking up. I don’t know what I feel.

**Elio:** My dad is hinting that I should. While saying that he’s remaining neutral and not guiding me in one specific direction

**Marzia:** Typical Professor P.

**Elio:** Also, do you remember my Reddit friend?

**Marzia:** The one you text more than you text with me?

**Elio:** Yeah. She suggested we meet up in person.

**Marzia:** OoooOOOOooooooOOOOoooo

**Elio:** Stop it, it’s not like that.

**Elio:** Maybe. I don’t know. I’m still with Frank, anyway.

**Marzia:** For now.

**Elio:** Should I meet up with her? Or would it be too weird, finally meeting in person?

**Marzia:** What do you have to lose?

**Elio:** A good friend?

**Marzia:** That wouldn’t happen. Is she cute?

**Elio:** I don’t know, we’ve never actually shared our names our pictures. I don’t know who she is.

**Marzia:** So your ugly mug hasn’t scared her off yet.

**Elio:** Hey, fuck you!

**Marzia:** We tried that once, when we were 18. Never again.

**Elio:** I spoiled you for other men.

**Marzia:** It’ll be a good story to tell our respective grandchildren one day. Maybe their best friends will be the one night stands they have during freshman orientation, too.

**Elio:** I hope meeting up with her is a good idea. We have a connection. Even if it’s just friendship. I promise she won’t replace you in my life.

**Marzia:** Good! It’s bad enough you’ve said your father’s dog is your new best friend.

**Elio:** Is it weird to meet up with someone I met on Reddit?

**Marzia:** You met Frank on Tinder. How is it any different?

**Elio:** I guess it isn’t. It’s just… we’ve been talking online for so long, it feels weird to finally meet up.

**Elio:** Even though we know we’re on the same island.

**Marzia:** Just do it.

**Elio:** Okay. I’m going to meet her tomorrow night at Cafe Lalo. Check in with me and make sure I don't get murdered?

* * *

_**Texts between Oliver and his best friend, Kevin Washington** _

**Oliver:** Kev, my Uber is stuck in traffic. You’re a block from the cafe. Can you go see if she’s there yet?

**Kevin:** What am I looking for exactly?

**Oliver:** She’s going to have a copy of Little Women on the table

**Kevin:** And you’re sure this MotherOfPerl is a she?

**Oliver:** I think so? I guess I don’t know that for sure, I’ve always just assumed she was female.

**Kevin:** What would you say if they were a dude?

**Oliver:** It’d still be cool. This isn’t a date, anyway. I’m with Eden, remember?

**Kevin:** I’d like to forget her.

**Kevin:** What do you think of that Elio guy, the one with the bookstore who led that protest outside of the Congo store? Is he your type?

**Oliver:** He’s good looking, but a total pain in the ass. What does this have to do with him?

**Oliver:** Also, remember Eden? Not a date.

**Kevin:** Eden? The woman who, at my wedding, thought my mother worked for the catering hall and referred to her as “the help”? Like I said, I’d rather not remember her.

**Kevin:** Anyway, you’ll just have to see for yourself.

* * *

Oliver paced outside of the cafe once Kevin left, debating what to do. Should he out himself as NY152? Should he just go home, leaving Elio to wonder why his internet friend stood him up? He was trying to process everything that had happened in the span of a few minutes. His friend from Reddit, whom he’d assumed was female for several years, was actually Elio Perlman, the man trying to make his professional life miserable. Maybe Elio had hacked his email, and knew exactly where he would be in order to trick him. He poked his head into the cafe again, where Elio was sipping a coffee and flipping through the pages of the book he’d placed on the table as an identifier. It seemed like he was genuinely there to meet his anonymous friend. Suddenly it clicked. MotherOfPerl. Elio Perlman. MotherOfPerl was definitely Elio.

He was having a hard time reconciling that Elio, the man who so vocally disliked Oliver and everything his family stood for, was also his closest online friend. Someone with whom he’d confided his innermost secrets and fears, someone who understood him at such a deep level. If only Elio knew the irony that the success of his store, of which he’d been so happy for him online, was the same store that was putting his own out of business. Oliver wasn’t ready to tell Elio that he was NY152 just yet. Elio hated him, and he didn’t want to lose the friendship that they had built over the past several years online. But he had to do something. So he went inside the cafe.

Oliver strode into the cafe, with an attempt to exude confidence and swagger. He worried he was pushing it too far, but kept playing the game. He walked by Elio’s table, did a double take, and laughed. “Fancy seeing you here,” he said, taking the seat across from Elio before he could turn him away. 

Elio flicked his wrist at Oliver, indicating that his presence was not wanted. “Go away, I’m waiting for someone.”

The game was afoot. Oliver flagged down the waiter while he perused the menu. “Waiter, I’ll have a latte.”

Elio’s brow furrowed, scrunching his nose, with his nostrils flaring. Someone was angry, but Oliver was just going to have to test the waters. “Get your own table,” Elio said, looking back down at his book.

The waiter brought Oliver a glass of water, and Oliver took a large gulp. “Oh, I can just keep you company until you friend arrives. Is he late?”

“Yes, but I’m sure SHE has a good reason for being late,” Elio huffed. So Elio thought that his Reddit friend was female, as well. Oliver wondered why they both thought the other was going to be female. Perhaps they’d each made sexist and unfair assumptions about his fellow fan of women’s soccer.

Oliver reached across the table to grab Elio’s book and pretended to scrutinize the title, even though he knew exactly what book he’d planned on bringing to the table. “ _Little Women_? Isn’t that a bit-”

Before he could finish the sentence he was probably going to regret, Elio interrupted him. “My mother used to read it with me when I was young. She thought it was important for me to read books written by women, and with strong female protagonists. This is a timeless classic, and you’re too philistine to appreciate it.”

“And let me guess, you think there’s no better protagonist than Jo March?”

Elio began to stutter. “Well… yes…”

He smirked, already knowing Elio’s history with the book. “And each time you re-read it, you hope that Jo will accept Laurie’s proposal, knowing that she never does.”

“It’s more nuanced than that. Jo wants someone she can spar with on an intellectual level, and Laurie can’t give her that. Jo needs more than just companionship.”

Oliver raised his eyebrow, suddenly feeling impatient. “I know that it’s nuanced. I’ve read it.”

Elio looked surprised. “You’ve read Alcott?”

“I work in the book industry, too, you know. One must know the classics to sell contemporary.”

The waiter brought Oliver his latte, and Oliver thanked him. Elio was getting riled up, and Oliver wasn’t sure if this would help or hurt his cause. “You don’t work in the book industry. You work for a capitalistic monopoly that strives to take down small businesses across the globe.”

He shrugged at Elio’s offensive comment. “Please. If you took the time to get to know me, you’d know that I am much more than just my family’s business and money.”

“No. What I’d find is an offshore bank account, some tax fraud, and computers set up to mine and sell data to overseas governments. I know what Congo does, Oliver Fox.” He lingered on his last name, as if Fox was a swear word.

Beneath Elio’s exasperated and bitter exterior, there had to be the warm and caring person Oliver had been chatting with for all of these months. “Come on,” he pleaded. “We’re not THAT evil. My dad founded Congo because he wanted to make it easier for people to buy the books they loved.”

As he spoke, Elio’s cheeks were turning red, mirroring the fiery ire his words were denoting. “And my mother opened Le Dépanneur because she learned to speak English through children’s books and wanted to pass on the love of reading in all languages to future generations. I pay my employees a living wage with health insurance, unlike your company, which relies on contract workers who receive no benefits while working in unsafe conditions. Now, would you please just leave me alone already and let me wait for my friend in peace?”

Oliver conceded, knowing this was a battle he was never going to win, and that Elio wasn’t entirely wrong. “Okay…” He stood up, and sat at the table next to Elio, sitting back to back with him.

A few moments later, as Oliver sipped his latte in silence, Elio tapped him on the shoulder. “I just had a breakthrough! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome?” Oliver said, trying to understand Elio’s motivation.

Elio repositioned himself in his chair, sitting backwards, legs draped under the back of the chair, so as to face Oliver, who had turned his head to look at Elio. “For the first time, I was truly able to tell someone I don’t like how I felt about them, and speak my mind.”

“You haven’t really had a problem with that before.”

He smirked. “No, this is the first time I just spoke without thinking it over and just said what I felt. You just sat across from me, and I was able to actually tell you everything I wanted to say! This was cathartic, why have I never done this before?”

Oliver shrugged, thinking that in every past interaction with Elio, he thought he’d had no problems speaking his mind. He wondered what was going through Elio’s mind if that was him holding back. “You’ve got a gift for it. That was the perfect blend of snark and political savvy.”

“Snark?” Elio asked, biting his lip in thought.

While blowing on his latte to cool it down before taking another sip, Oliver continued. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m trying to pay you a compliment.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, as Elio turned back around, glancing down at his phone and at every person who entered the cafe. Oliver felt guilty for not revealing his identity, but after Elio’s responses to him, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to tell him who he truly was without hurting him, and as much as Elio annoyed him, he also couldn’t bear to hurt MotherOfPerl. He understood they were the same person, but his professional life and his online life were so siloed in his mind, that he still was having trouble processing it, even though he knew the truth.

After a few more minutes, Elio looked over at Oliver and sighed. “Please leave.”

“I’m just here to enjoy my latte and do the crossword puzzle,” he said, showing his phone to Elio, displaying his half-completed puzzle that he was not actually doing and had given up on in the morning. Soon, Elio’s phone began to beep, and Elio nervously checked it. Oliver debated sending him a message, explaining why NY152 couldn’t make it, but decided to hold off until he was home. “That ringtone reminds me of the day we met, of the music you were playing in between stories at musical story hour. Is it Mozart?”

“Like I said, you’re a philistine. It’s Bach. I’m a classically trained pianist, I was going to be a professional musician.”

“Are you really? I quit piano lessons right after my bar mitzvah. Neither of my parents noticed, I was always taken to the lessons by the nannies anyway.”

Elio shrugged him off once more, not wanting to engage in small talk. “Anyway, you were lying on the day we met. You were just scoping out the competition.”

The day they went to the bookstore, Oliver had been taking his half-brother Mason, and aunt Addison around the city for the day, and Mason had insisted they stop in the store. “I was not lying or scoping out competition. I was with my aunt and my brother, and yes, before you make another snarky comment about it, they are indeed my aunt and brother. My old father and even older grandfather both reproduced with their very young trophy wives. Let’s not get into the fact that my stepmother is younger than I am. But my brother saw the sign about story time, thought it sounded fun, and insisted we go inside. That was all. I was just being a good nephew and brother, spending more time with them than my father or grandfather do, and took them wherever they wanted to go.”

“So that’s why you bought $250 worth of books, paid in cash? It was just guilt money from your family?”

Oliver took a deep breath, holding himself back from getting into another argument with Elio. “No. I didn’t lie about anything. I… I didn’t want you to see the name on my credit card, after we’d spent so much time in the store. And when you pay in cash at a small business, the business doesn’t have to claim all of the income, and won’t pay taxes on all of it.”

Elio stared Oliver down, getting huffier by the second. “So that’s all anything ever is to you? A business transaction?”

He shook his head, remembering his recent conversations with his father. “No, that’s my father’s territory. I’m sorry I tried to help.”

Elio balled his fists and pretended to rub below his eyes, pouting his lips. “Oh, I’m so sorry for you, you sad, pathetic billionaire.”

“I’m not a BILLionaire…” The door to the cafe opened and Elio looked over, disappointed when it was just a delivery person returning to the cafe. “So… who are you meeting? Who is she?”

“She’s a wonderful person, I’ll have you know. Much better than you are. She knows a lot about art, and literature, and traveling, and loves soccer.”

Oliver pretended to count on his fingers as Elio listed the interests. “Well, she sounds wonderful. Will you be sarcastic and bitter to her, too?” He couldn’t help himself, and regretted it immediately.

“No, because the woman I’m meeting is the opposite of you. She’s kind, and warm, and smart, and has a great sense of humor.”

Oliver looked around, pretending to scout out Elio’s friend, even though the friend was sitting directly behind him. “But she’s not here.”

Elio pouted, looking down at his phone again for a phantom message. “If she’s not here, there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation. There isn’t a bad bone in her body, unlike you. You’ve deluded yourself into thinking that you are saving the world by bringing people cheap toilet paper and clothing, and books at a price lower than I can buy at wholesale. But no one will ever remember you, Oliver Fox. But if they don’t remember me, they’ll at least remember the impact that my mother, Annella Perlman, had on the community. You are nothing but a corporate drone.”

This was the last straw. Oliver put on a poker face, so Elio could not see how much his words had hurt him. He should have never come to the cafe or suggested that they meet in person. Perhaps Elio just adapted a kinder personality online than he had in real life, and this potential friendship was never going to work. “Well… that’s my cue. Good night, Elio.” Oliver reached into his wallet and put down enough money on the table to cover his latte, everything Elio had ordered, and a large tip. He marched out of the cafe without looking behind him.

* * *

**Article from the _West Side Rag_ titled _“Huge Sale at Le Dépanneur!”_**

Beloved West 80th Street bookstore, Le Dépanneur, is having its largest sale ever. Visit between today and Monday for up to 50% off everything in the store!

I’ve never seen them giving discounts this high before, so get in there while you can! This store is a local gem, and I recommend stopping by this week.

* * *

_**Texts between Elio and Marzia** _

**Elio:** Frank and I broke up a few nights ago.

**Elio:** He had to decide if he should re-sign his lease, and I said he should.

**Elio:** Which got us talking about our future, and that we don’t really have one.

**Marzia:** I’m sorry, E

**Marzia:** Well, now you can be on the prowl again

**Elio:** I just want a partner. I don’t want to be single. But I want to be with the right person.

**Marzia:** I can set you up with my hot professor. He’s like 50, salt and pepper hair, runs marathons.

**Marzia:** (picture of professor)

**Elio:** He’s hot, but I’m close enough with my dad, I don’t need to date a professor, too.

**Elio:** I… I don’t feel bad at all that we broke up. It was mutual.

**Marzia:** Do you think you can stay friends because I’d really like to keep getting free samples of the products he’s given to review.

**Elio:** I think we will. I just think we’re not meant to be romantic partners.

**Elio:** Also, he is already going on a date with someone else

**Marzia:** He jumped on grindr that fast?

**Elio:** No. He’s going out tonight with the guy from NY1 with the ugly bowties.

**Marzia:** YOU TOTALLY CALLED THAT ONE.

* * *

_**Reddit conversation between Elio (MotherOfPerl) and Oliver (NY152)** _

**NY152** : I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there. I can’t tell you why, but I promise that I will explain it to you one day. Please know that I wished you no ill will and should have told you about my absence ahead of time. I truly hope that our paths can actually cross one day.

**MotherOfPerl** : It’s okay. I’m sure you had a good reason, even if you can’t tell me why. Your absence only helped me finally come to terms with something that has been bothering me. While waiting at the cafe, I crossed paths with someone who has been making my professional life a nightmare, and I was finally able to give him a piece of my mind. So for that, I thank you. I do wish you had told me you weren’t going to be able to make it, but I forgive you, and would still like to be friends.

* * *

_**Le Dépanneur website, main page** _

It is with great sorrow that Le Dépanneur will be closing its doors on December 1, 2019. We have loved serving the community since 1989. Until then, everything in stock, will be sold at 65% off, or best offer for fixtures. If you are ever looking for book recommendations, or would like to chat, please send us an email, or a message on Instagram (we will keep maintaining the store’s account), and we would still love to help you.

My mother opened this store 30 years ago to give back to the community that welcomed her with open arms. Her dedication to the store provided two generations of children with a newfound love of literature. I hope that I can keep the spirit of Le Dépanneur alive, and with it, my mother’s memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in three days? I'm as excited as you are!
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely words. I hope you're still enjoying this, and know that more is coming soon, so we're not ending on this depressing note.


	5. Chapter Five

_**Text messages between Oliver and Elio** _

**Oliver:** Hi Elio, this is Oliver Fox. Chiara gave me your number.

**Oliver** : She’s a really great manager of our children’s book section

**Elio:** I know, that’s why my mom hired her at our bookstore. It’s a shame she now has to work for your shithole.

**Elio:** Are you texting me to gloat about putting my store out of business?

**Oliver** : No, but I am texting to ask you for a HUGE favor

**Elio:** Let me get this straight, you are asking ME for a favor?

**Elio:** What, do you need help understanding how to read a book, or sell anything more complicated than the Times’ Bestsellers?

**Oliver:** This request is on behalf of my little brother, Mason

**Oliver:** Remember him? About 4 feet tall? Maybe 50 pounds? Biggest blue puppy dog eyes and floppiest blond hair you’ll ever see?

**Elio:** I remember your brother, yes. He was a sweet kid, which is surprising given the way you turned out.

**Oliver:** Blame puberty, I guess. I was a cute kid, too.

**Oliver:** This is a big imposition, and I wouldn’t be asking if we weren’t desperate.

**Elio:** Desperation sounds about accurate.

**Oliver:** Would you be willing to go to his kindergarten class and lead a musical story hour with them? On your schedule, whenever you have free time?

**Elio:** My entire life is free time right now. I had to close my store because of your family. So, yes, I have the time.

**Elio:** Why is he asking for me?

**Oliver:** He asked if I could take him to your store again, and he was upset that you had closed and he couldn’t go to story hour again

**Oliver:** It seems he’s hyped you up to his classmates, and you have an entire class of six year olds who want to see the amazing Elio in person.

**Elio:** I am amazing. That assessment is quite accurate.

**Oliver:** His teacher reached out to my step-mother, Astrid, who has tasked me with booking you for the class.

**Elio:** So it’s a paid gig?

**Oliver:** No, his elite private school only looks for volunteers. Have to pinch the pennies somewhere.

**Oliver:** You’d think one of the wealthiest schools in the country would pay for things like this, but they get the parents to donate so much time and money. It’s ridiculous.

**Oliver:** As obnoxious as it is, the kindergarteners are adorable and actually appreciate everything.

**Elio:** Fine, I’ll do it. Tell me when and where, and what instruments and books to bring.

**Oliver:** I’ll send you Miss Valentine’s contact information, she’ll tell you everything you need to know

**Oliver:** Thank you, by the way. You’re scoring me major brownie points with my brother.

**Elio:** Am I going to have to be your aunt’s date to her Bat Mitzvah, too?

**Oliver:** Hardy har har, you are hilarious.

**Oliver:** Seriously though, thank you.

**Elio:** You’re welcome. I’m only doing this because I don’t want to disappoint a young fan. I’m not doing this for you.

**Oliver:** Duly noted.

* * *

Oliver sat in the principal’s office of his brother’s school, waiting for Elio to arrive. One benefit to working at your father’s company, even if it was a multinational corporation, was the ability to take off the occasional afternoon. A few minutes before the time he had told him to arrive, Elio strode into the principal’s office, escorted by one of the secretaries from the main office. “If you wait in here, Mr. Perlman, Miss Valentine will be with you shortly. Feel free to leave your coat on the coat rack.”

Elio leaned his guitar case against the wall, draped his messenger bag on a chair, and began taking off his hat and scarf, hanging his peacoat on the principal’s coat rack. He was wearing a blue cable-knit sweater, which Oliver silently told himself did not brought out the green in Elio’s eyes at all. Not at all. They certainly didn’t reflect any of the sunlight currently streaming into the surprisingly well-lit office.

Once Elio was settled in, Oliver nodded at him. “Thanks for coming.” He offered his hand to Elio for a handshake, which confused him. They already knew each other, did they need to shake hands? Why did he offer his hand? Elio gave him an equally confused glance, but went with it, and shook Oliver’s hand with a firm grip.

“Not sure why I agreed to this, but, you’re welcome, I guess,” Elio said, slouching into his chair. He took out his phone and began to scroll idly, in an attempt to ignore Oliver.

Oliver attempted to make conversation, but Elio was mostly not having it. “What are you planning on reading?”

Elio shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that. I brought a few books, figured I’d read the room, see what they’re interested in.”

“Do you always wing it at your story hour?” Oliver asked. Elio had seemed prepared when he had met him at his store several months earlier.

“Sometimes, depends on the day. Kids like improvising songs, so occasionally we’ll make up a song based on the story we read. Depends on the audience.”

Oliver listened intently as Elio explained his technique for picking a story and writing a song on the spot. It sounded much more advanced than the improv group Kevin had joined after college. Was it possible that Elio was actually making polite conversation with him instead of arguing and accusing him of illegal or unethical business practices?

Soon, Mason’s teacher poked her head in the door and introduced herself. He’d met his brother’s teacher several times before - she was petite, with curly red hair and a large chest, with a treacly sweet high-pitched voice. “Hi, you must be Elio? Mason hasn’t stopped talking about you!”

“Elio, Miss Valentine. Miss Valentine, this is Elio Perlman,” Oliver said, making sure he was included in the conversation.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, flitting her eyes and angling her face down in faux shame. “Please, call me Madison.”

Elio smiled at her - an intentionally warmer smile than he’d ever given Oliver, which gave Oliver a feeling he dismissed as jealousy - and told her that it was nice to meet her.

Miss Valentine escorted Elio and Oliver to her classroom. “So, we’ll set up in the classroom. The kids should be coming back from their lunch soon. They are really looking forward to this.”

Oliver helped Miss Valentine rearrange a few chairs in front of the classroom, and Elio took out his guitar and began turning the tuning pegs, pressing his ears closer to the guitar to hear each note.

“You don’t need a chromatic tuner or an app or something?” Miss Valentine asked. “If I tuned my viola that way in high school, it would have been a disaster.”

He shook his head, and kept turning the peg. “Nah, I’ve got perfect pitch,” he stated matter-of-factly, without affect, as if it wasn’t the most impressive thing Oliver had heard all day.

Miss Valentine began unrolling a carpet for the children to sit on, and Oliver grabbed the other end without being asked, placing it down a few feet from Elio’s chair. She looked down at her watch, and nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to go get the kids from the cafeteria.”

“I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I am really, truly, sorry that you closed your store.”

“Thanks,” Elio sighed, resting the guitar on his knee once he finished tuning it.

Oliver sat at Miss Valentine’s desk, leaning placing his chin against his balled fist. “Did you study guitar in college? Is studying classical guitar a thing?”

“It is, but I did not. I trained mostly on piano. I taught myself guitar when I was a kid.”

“Are you thinking about going back into music now?”

Elio shrugged sadly, and Oliver felt immensely guilty over the career struggles Elio was facing. “I’m not sure. I can probably take some freelance gigs, but I’m probably too old to find a permanent position playing music now. I missed that window of opportunity when I was running the store.”

“Maybe you didn’t,” Oliver suggested. His father and grandfather donated money to many performing arts organizations, and he wondered if they would be able to pull some strings, though he doubted Elio would take any help he offered. “Do you only want to play classical music?”

“You likely mean instrumental music instead of classical, but no.” Oliver attempted to not roll his eyes at Elio’s slight. “I enjoy playing most music. I loved playing piano in the pit orchestra of musicals in college, and I would have played in a band if the opportunity had presented itself. I just really like performing, but the problem is that I need to figure out what exactly I want to do.”

Oliver fidgeted with a pen he picked up on the teacher’s desk, clicking it at random intervals. “You still have time to figure that out,” he said wistfully.

“Not really. Not all of us have bottomless trust funds. But I talked to my father, and he can help me out for about a year if I can’t find something.”

There was a knock on the door, and soon, about twenty kindergarteners ran into the room, screaming and chasing one another. Mason ran into the room, gave Oliver a quick hug, and rejoined his friends.

“Quiet down, class. When I hold two fingers in the air, find your seat on the magic carpet, I expect total silence from each of you.” Miss Valentine put up her fingers like a peace sign, and it was as if she hit a mute button in the classroom. She held the students in rapt attention - Oliver was surprised by the tranquility he suddenly found in a kindergarten classroom. “I’d like each of you to sit criss-cross-applesauce, and let us welcome our guests! You’ve all met Mason’s brother before. Everyone say hello to Mr. Fox.”

“Hi Mr. Fox!” They all shouted in unison, except for Mason, who said his first name.

“And class, we have a very special guest today. Please welcome Mr. Perlman, who is going to lead us in a musical storytime today!”

“Hi Mr. Perlman!”

Elio blushed, and batted his hand at the room. “Before I read, why don’t we sing a song first?” he asked, picking up his guitar and throwing the strap over his shoulder.

* * *

_**Comments section, Barnes-Campbell Preparatory Academy website, for a video titled “ Musical Story Hour with Mr. Elio Perlman in Miss Valentine’s Kindergarten Class”** _

**AstridFox:** Mason just adored Elio when he met him a few months ago at his store. I was so glad he was able to do this for our kids!

**IsaiahsMommy:** He was great! I’m glad you recorded this so we could watch it. My son couldn’t stop talking about him, so please bring Mr. Perlman back soon! Also, I might also need to watch it when the kids AREN’T around...

**LSWorthington83:** What a great volunteer! Thank you for bringing him to our kids’ classroom! Zoe is desperate for guitar lessons now so she can play while we read books to her and her little sister. He’s easy on the eyes, too.

**PaisleyGibson11:** HE’S SO HOT! HOW COME WE ONLY GOT OLD PEOPLE AND PARENTS WHEN I WAS IN KINDERGARTEN? Think he can come to the 4th grade, too?

**LetsGoMets212:** I don’t think I’ve ever seen the kindergarteners so engaged before. This is wonderful. Lovely to see members of the community volunteering their time with the children.

**UWSDadto3:** Liv is so jealous that Mr. Perlman didn’t come to her class! Bring him back!

**DrMom3617:** Does anyone else notice the chemistry between Miss Valentine and the musician? Sparks are flying!

**IsaiahsMommy:** Oh! They would be so cute together!

**MCohenBergman:** I second the need for more hot volunteers who sing and read stories to the kids.

* * *

_**Instagram Post by marzia.rossi** _

**Video:** Elio and Marzia singing karaoke together. They are singing “Shallow” from _A Star is Born_ , but Marzia is singing the Bradley Cooper parts and Elio is singing the Lady Gaga parts in an exaggerated, very dramatic falsetto. They are very drunk.

**Caption:** Fellas, we’re both single!

_**Comments:** _

**elioperlman:** I think I need another shot of tequila just to listen to us. Why did we think karaoke was a good idea?

**marziarossi:** Karaoke is always an excellent idea. I had fun.

**samuelperlman:** I think you both sounded lovely. You can tell that even though you were both joking around, that you are excellent singers, and were having a great time. And Marzia, Cynthia says that the green of your dress is a beautiful color on you. I miss both of you very much, and will see you next time I’m back in the city.

**barkus.aurelius:** woof! I love you, Elio (and Marzia)! Ruff ruff!

* * *

It was a lazy Saturday morning. Eden was out of town at a bachelorette party, so Oliver relished having the apartment to himself, and the ability to wander around the city for the day by himself. After going for a run in Riverside Park, he decided to treat himself and pick up some lunch, and perhaps dessert, at Zabar’s.

As he fiddled with his AirPods, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Of course Elio was here, too. “Fancy seeing you here,” Elio muttered.

“Looking for your black and white cookie fix?” Oliver asked, grabbing a box of rugelach. Eden was suddenly not eating carbs, but she wasn’t here, so he was going to carbo-load this weekend.

Elio shook his head. “No, I was just here to grab a babka to bring to Mafalda when I go to her place for dinner.” Oliver shrugged, as if he was supposed to know whom Mafalda was. “She’s an old woman who worked at the store. She worked there since the day my mother opened it when I was a baby.”

Reaching around Elio to grab a cheese sample, Oliver spoke with his mouth full. “That’s really nice of you. Do you see her often?”

“Yeah, I see her every week or so. She’s like an aunt to me.” Oliver silently thought to himself that Elio saw people who weren’t his biological family more often than his father saw his brother. “Mafalda is officially retired now. She should have done it years ago, but she stayed on because she loved the store and the customers. And me.”

Even when he wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt Oliver, Elio had a way of twisting the knife and making Oliver’s guilt grow exponentially. “Is she doing okay now?”

He nodded with a smile. “Never better, actually. She and her husband are going to travel the world now. Mafalda leads a far more exciting life than I ever could.”

“The only traveling I ever get to do lately is for business or for weddings. I miss traveling for fun.”

“We used to visit my mom’s family in Europe a lot as a kid. I never got to do the adventurous or fun traveling that everyone else did. No trips to Disney World for me,” Elio said.

_Shallow_ began playing over the store’s speakers, and Oliver remembered the video he’d stumbled on (he was definitely not stalking Elio on social media, to the point of refreshing Elio’s best friend’s Instagram feed on an hourly basis), where Elio and Marzia were singing the song at karaoke. “This song is so ridiculous, but I bet it would be fun to sing at karaoke.”

“Yeah, it is… it would be fun,” Elio said, changing course mid-sentence.

As they paced around the market, picking up more items than either of them had planned to, they talked about their lives and childhoods. “Want to continue this in the cafe?” Oliver suggested. “I could go for a cheese blintz right about now.”

“Sure, I haven’t had the whitefish salad in forever, but I can smell it from here, and would definitely have some…”

They grabbed a table for two at the cafe, and ordered their food. Midway through the meal, Elio seemed like he had forgotten that he supposedly despised Oliver and everything he stood for. They were developing an easy rapport, and there was never a lull in the conversation, even as they ate their overpriced food.

“So your mom ran a bookstore, but what did your dad do?” Oliver asked, not sure if Elio had mentioned his father.

Elio sipped on his Dr. Brown’s Cel-Ray. “My dad’s a classics professor. Taught at Columbia for years, is now at UCLA.”

“How’d he wind up in California? Did your dad leave your mom for the au pair, like mine did?” Oliver grimaced at the reminder of the twenty-one year old his father had a brief affair with, ending his parents’ ten year marriage. Elio caught Oliver up on how his father wound up in California with his girlfriend, Cynthia, and how his father couldn’t even bear to live in the same city after Annella died.

“Cynthia is good for my dad. She’s also a professor, and she’s also a widow. They’ve helped each other a lot. But her grandkids are out there, so, they moved out west. Now he’s got a house, with a backyard, two cars, and a dog he loves more than he’s ever loved me.”

Oliver raised his eyebrow, questioning Elio’s assessment of his father. “It sounds like your father loves you a lot. He sounds way better than my dad.”

“Oh, no, I was just being facetious. My Dad’s the best. But he is obsessed with that dog. He’s even made him his own Instagram account,” Elio said, pulling up the account on his phone to show Oliver. “He comments on everything I post as both himself, and as the dog. It would be annoying if he wasn’t doing it with such sincerity.” Oliver scrolled through the dog’s account, and chuckled at each of Professor Perlman’s punny or silly captions.

He took deliberately small bites of his blintz, in a subconscious attempt to stretch the meal for as long as he could make it last. “My Dad says he tries to do the best for the family, but most of my childhood memories involve some nanny or au pair, including the ones he had affairs with, and neither of my parents. Dad always worked, Mom was always off at a health retreat or a yoga ashram.”

“How is he with Mason?” Elio asked. 

Even though Elio’d met his brother twice now, Oliver was glad that Elio remembered his name. “He barely sees my brother. He’s in Seattle half of the time, and Mason is here. I’m more of a father to my brother than my father is.”

“At least Mason has you,” Elio offered, a suggestion that gave Oliver hope for a future friendship between them. Maybe Elio wouldn’t be that upset when he told him he was his Reddit friend. But he still needed more time for Elio to realize that he was actually a half-decent human being.

This time, Elio made sure to put down money for his share before Oliver could storm off. “Should we run into each other again, say, next Saturday at lunch time? It’ll give us more opportunity to kvetch about our families.”

“You’re the one kvetching. I love my family, " Elio mused. "But sure. How about Barney Greengrass? We’ll compare it with Zabar’s?”

Oliver smiled at Elio. “Sounds good. I’ll text you later in the week and we can figure out a time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oliver's making some strides with Elio :) We've got only a few more chapters left, and I think you all know how it'll end, but there are still a few more twists and turns to go.
> 
> Thank you all for your support and comments and kudos!


	6. Chapter Six

_**Snippet from Gothamist Article, “Come on, Baby, Do the Congo!”** _

… Though local favorite Le Dépanneur closed its doors last month, Congo continues to thrive. Many other neighborhood bookstores have said they may also have to close up shop this year if business dwindles.

That said, we took a visit to the Congo store, and they’ve got everything you could possibly want or need. If the book or item you are looking for is not in stock, they will have the item delivered to your apartment by the end of the day. The staff are surprisingly helpful and knowledgeable…

Congo is by no means a replacement for an independently owned bookstore, but if it’s all the neighborhood can sustain, we can do worse.

* * *

_**Texts between Oliver and his girlfriend, Eden Hayes** _

**Eden:** I’ve been thinking about the bookstore owner we met at Jessie’s party, the one who played at Mason’s class.

**Oliver:** Elio? What about him?

**Eden:** I showed the video from Mason’s class to a few coworkers, and they agree that he’s talented.

**Oliver:** He definitely is.

**Eden:** Can you send me his contact info?

**Oliver:** What for?

**Eden:** If he can write his own stories or repurpose ones in the public domain, we think there’s a great opportunity for him to write children’s books and record videos. 

**Eden:** Both mothers and their kids would go crazy for him.

**Oliver:** What about fathers?

**Eden:** Sure, fathers, too.

**Oliver:** This… actually sounds like a great idea. He’s been trying to figure out what to do next with his career.

**Oliver:** Maybe writing for children might be the answer.

**Eden:** He’s handsome, great with kids, talented at playing music, and has a background in books. I think he’ll be good at this.

**Oliver:** Okay, let me send you his number.

* * *

_**Texts between Oliver and his best friend, Kevin Washington** _

**Oliver:** Eden and I are going to be super late to your dinner party, we’ve been stuck on the subway on the Manhattan Bridge for 10 minutes, and we’re showing no signs of moving.

**Kevin:** No worries, man. Get here when you can get here.

**Oliver:** 25 minutes. Still not moving. Eden’s getting antsy.

**Kevin:** I thought she never takes the subway?

**Oliver:** She doesn’t, but traffic on the UWS was a nightmare so she acquiesced.

**Oliver:** 45 minutes. Eden has been ranting about how dirty the car is, and how she’s going to need to take three showers to get rid of “the subway germs”

**Oliver:** Now she’s complaining about having to share a car with working class people, and said the subway should have a first class car for those of us who pay more taxes toward the system. Can you believe this nonsense?

**Oliver:** SHE ACTUALLY MENTIONED HAVING TO LOWER HERSELF TO DEAL WITH THE “PROLETARIAT” ON PUBLIC TRANSIT.

**Kevin:** Yikes. Hope you don’t mind we’ve started eating without you. We’ll save you a plate.

**Oliver:** Eden yelled at a mother with a crying toddler, and told her that she shouldn’t have taken her child out in public if he can’t behave. He’s a three year old, who has been stuck in a non-moving subway car for over an hour.

**Oliver:** I told her that I shouldn’t have taken her out in public. She did not like that.

**Oliver:** Apparently she’s too high class to be going to Brooklyn at all. She can’t believe that you and Jessie lowered yourselves to move to such a despicable place.

**Kevin:** She knows that I grew up in Bed Stuy, right? I’m offended by how much she hates Brooklyn. And most things she’s ever said or done.

**Kevin:** Sorry, dude, just telling it like it is.

**Oliver:** She hates anything that isn’t her upper crust New York.

**Kevin:** We own a brownstone next to Prospect Park. I think it costs more than her parents’ Upper East Side apartment. How is that not classy enough for her if all she cares about is money? Not that it matters.

**Oliver:** She just went over to the conductor and threatened to call the governor if he didn’t get the car moving. She took down his badge number so she could get him fired.

**Oliver:** I can’t believe how much privilege she’s trying to exert right now. This is horrifying. There’s a broken car at the other end of the bridge and no way for us to switch tracks. What does she think is going to happen?

**Kevin:** I’m sorry, buddy. This sounds like a nightmare.

**Oliver:** I think people just swore at her in six different languages.

**Oliver:** Oh, holy hell, the train finally moved. This only took two hours. Eden will be getting off at the next stop and taking an Uber back home, but I’m going to stop at your place for a drink if you don’t mind. And whatever food is leftover.

**Kevin:** I don’t mind. Is she sure she doesn’t want to come?

**Oliver:** She’s sure. I’m sure. We’re 100% done. I broke up with her, her behavior tonight was the last straw.

**Kevin:** Took you long enough.

* * *

_**Reddit conversation between Elio (MotherOfPerl) and Oliver (NY152)** _

**MotherOfPerl:** I had a very strange job proposition, and I hope you don’t mind if I speak vaguely about it, because I just need to air out my thoughts, and you’ve been helpful in the past, whether you knew it or not.

**NY152:** Go ahead, I’m all ears

**NY152:** Or, eyes, as it is

**MotherOfPerl:** Until very recently, I owned a business, which I may have mentioned before?

**NY152:** You said it wasn’t doing well but didn’t really say anything beyond that.

**MotherOfPerl:** It was my mother’s business, I took it over after she got sick.

**MotherOfPerl:** Wasn’t my life’s plan, but it meant the world to her, so it meant the world to me.

**MotherOfPerl:** But, as small businesses in New York go, I was put out by a big corporation. We’d managed to stay open for so long, but I just didn’t have my mother’s charm or business acumen, and we couldn’t survive. 

**MotherOfPerl:** For what it’s worth, we weren’t doing well before the big corporation, and we probably wouldn’t have made it another two years, but I had hope things would turn around again.

**NY152:** I’m sorry to hear that.

**NY152:** And I’m sure that can’t be true. You seem perfectly charming on Reddit, I bet that carries over into your life.

**MotherOfPerl:** I don’t think that’s the case. Most people are different on the internet than they are IRL.

**NY152:** I think I’m pretty similar in person and online. Though maybe I come across as an asshole in person, but I promise I’m actually really nice.

**MotherOfPerl:** I wouldn’t know, you stood me up.

**NY152:** Ahhh, that again. I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you one day.

**NY152:** But you were saying you had a job proposition?

**MotherOfPerl:** Yes. This requires a bit of another vague tangent.

**NY152:** Still listening.

**MotherOfPerl:** As it is, I’ve gotten to know the owner of this corporation, the one I’m blaming for putting me out of business (and not the real reason, a dying industry and decrease in customers). The son of the owner, anyway. He’s been a real thorn in my side. A total wise ass. My dad would probably call him a schmuck.

**NY152:** I’m sure he can’t be that bad.

**MotherOfPerl:** No, he’s pretty terrible. Sometimes. He’s been less terrible lately. 

**MotherOfPerl:** For reasons I can’t even really understand, I’ve been hanging out with him. I’m not sure if he enjoys my company or if he just feels guilty that his company’s success led to my business’s ultimate demise.

**NY152:** Could it be both? I bet it’s mostly the former, though. I don’t think someone would be your friend out of guilt.

**MotherOfPerl:** He’s really, really good looking, but he’s the kind of person who knows how hot he is, and is smarmy about it.

**NY152:** Let me guess. Dashing looks, very tall, great hair, symmetrical features, the works.

**MotherOfPerl:** Sounds like you already know him pretty well.

**NY152:** I know the type.

**MotherOfPerl:** If he wasn’t so smug, I’d find him sexy as hell. I can’t tell if I want to punch him in the face or rip his clothes off on the sidewalk. But it’s moot because he has a girlfriend.

**NY152:** Sometimes someone makes you want to do both at the same time. I’ve been having those same feelings about someone recently, too.

**NY152:** How did you wind up hanging out with him?

**MotherOfPerl:** We kept running into each other - it’s a small city sometimes. Then, he selfishly asked me to help him with something and I couldn’t understand at the time why I agreed, but now it’s led to a job offer, so I guess it was a good thing I did it?

**MotherOfPerl:** He’s so good with kids, though.

**NY152:** He’s a father?

**MotherOfPerl:** Oh, no, he doesn’t have kids. He’s got a kid brother, though, and he’s so sweet with him.

**MotherOfPerl:** So out of nowhere, his girlfriend offers me a job. Doing something I’d never even thought about doing, but… I think I really like her idea, and wish I’d come up with it myself. Maybe.

**NY152:** Any more specifics?

**MotherOfPerl:** I wanted to keep it vague. It involves working with children, which I used to do in a different capacity. I just don’t know if this is the next career move.

**MotherOfPerl:** Also, she’s even more intolerable than he is, and I don’t know if I want to work with her.

**MotherOfPerl:** But her idea is very good.

**NY152:** Can you follow this career path without working with Sexypants’ girlfriend?

**MotherOfPerl:** Possibly, but she’d be a good entry point into the field, if it’s the field I choose.

**NY152:** I see. The way you’re talking about this, it sounds like it’s something you’d want to pursue.

**MotherOfPerl:** I… I think so. Maybe. But I have to commit, I can’t do it half-assed.

**NY152:** You don’t seem like the kind of person who half-asses anything.

**MotherOfPerl:** No, I go all in. You’re right.

**NY152:** Can you explore other avenues to getting to this same path? Do you know others in the industry?

**MotherOfPerl:** I do, I just feel bad exploiting my contacts.

**NY152:** It’s not exploitation, it’s what networking is all about.

**MotherOfPerl:** I’m going to think about this more, but maybe I know others to speak with.

**MotherOfPerl:** Thanks for listening to me.

**NY152:** Anytime.

* * *

_**Texts between Elio and his father, Samuel Perlman** _

**Elio:** Hey, how was Napa?

**Papa:** My son actually wants to speak with me in real time! Why not call me instead?

**Elio:** Get with the times, pops.

**Papa:** OK, OK. Cynthia and I had a lovely time

**Papa:** I got you a Cabernet I think you’ll like, I’ll bring it next time I fly out there

**Elio:** Sounds great

**Papa:** Did you ever wind up seeing that kindergarten teacher again?

**Elio:** No. She was cute, but there wasn’t a connection.

**Papa:** How are you doing?

**Elio:** I’ve been better, but I’m okay.

**Elio:** Wishing I still had the store, but trying to figure out what to do next.

**Elio:** I may have been holding onto the store to hold onto maman, more than actually wanting to run a bookstore.

**Elio:** Also, I think maman realized it wasn’t financially stable, but kept it open out of love.

**Papa:** I’m glad I was able to fly out there and be with you the day you closed.

**Elio:** It made it slightly easier having you here with me for that. It wasn’t easy, though. At all.

**Papa:** It felt like burying your mother all over again.

**Elio:** I need to find a new job soon. I feel like a hermit, and I need a steady income eventually.

**Papa:** Do you want me to send you some money? I told you that I can probably help you out with money for about a year.

**Elio:** Don’t be crazy, I have enough saved up. I can survive for a while.

**Elio:** Actually, I was offered a book deal.

**Papa:** My son, the writer! I didn’t know you’d put together a proposal!

**Papa:** What are you writing a book about?

**Elio:** I didn’t write anything! You know Oliver Fox, the guy whose dad owns Congo? The company that effectively shoved the nail in Le Dep’s proverbial coffin?

**Papa:** You’ve mentioned him once or twice.

**Elio:** His ex-girlfriend offered me a book deal based off of the video of musical story hour at Oliver’s brother’s school.

**Papa:** What do they want you to write?

**Elio:** They want me to write children’s books, and make musical components for them to upload online. Basically, musical story hour, but for money.

**Papa:** That would combine your love of books and music. And you’ve always been good with kids.

**Elio:** Is that my career, though?

**Papa:** That’s up to you, Elly Belly.

**Elio:** Maybe I could do something in multiple languages?

**Papa:** I can see you’ve been thinking about this a lot.

**Elio:** I have. I think my biggest issue is that I don’t want to work with this woman, she’s unbearable. Also, I’ve been thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be writing kids’ books, but I should be writing music for kids. Teaching kids about Mozart and Beethoven and more modern music.

**Papa:** You’ve always been good at improvising songs with kids. I think this is a really great idea. Reach out to some of your mother’s old contacts, she knew people in the music industry, too.

**Elio:** That’s what Oliver suggested, also. He offered to make calls for me, but I think he just feels guilty.

**Papa:** Taking business advice from the guy who put you out of business?

**Papa:** You’ve been seeing a lot of him, then?

**Elio:** He’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Still a smug asshole, but has been strangely helpful and present in the past few months.

**Papa:** Do you like him?

**Elio:** I think we’re friends now. Can you be friends with your enemy?

**Papa:** I don’t think he was ever really your enemy, and you know that’s not what I meant.

**Elio:** I… I don’t know. I think if I met him under different circumstances, I’d be really into him. He’s really handsome, and is funny, and is one of the few people I’ve met who can keep up with me conversationally.

**Papa:** But he’s straight?

**Elio:** I think so?

**Papa:** That’s never stopped you before…

**Papa:** I’m joking! It sounds like you’ve found yourself a good friend, if nothing else.

**Elio:** I don’t know if I could ever date him, though. I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive his family’s company.

**Papa:** He’s not his father or his company.

**Elio:** I did meet someone online, though.

**Papa:** I didn’t know you were on the tinders again!

**Elio:** It’s just called Tinder, Papa, and I didn’t meet her on a dating app.

**Papa:** How’d you meet then?

**Elio:** On Reddit, we met talking about women’s soccer. She’s around my age, Jewish, and likes so many of the same things I do.

**Papa:** Have you asked her out?

**Elio:** We planned to meet once, in person, but she couldn’t make it. She lives in New York, we’re trying to meet up again.

**Elio:** I think I really like her, Papa. I don’t even know what she looks like, but she gets me. On a deep level.

**Elio:** Maybe I should ask her if she wants to meet up again. Maybe she’ll show up this time.

**Papa:** Do you think you’re being clownfished?

**Elio:** ???????????

**Elio:** What the fuck does that mean?

**Papa:** Clownfished. You know, when you meet a person on the internet and they pretend to be someone they aren’t so you fall in love with them and send them all of your money, turning you into a clown.

**Elio:** Ha! You mean catfished.

**Elio:** No, I don’t. I trust her.

**Papa:** Just be careful, okay?

**Elio:** I will. Thanks, Papa.

**Papa:** I love you, son. We’ll talk on the phone soon?

**Elio:** Of course. I love you, too.

* * *

_**Multi-Picture Instagram Post by barkus.aurelius** _

**Picture 1:** Elio and Barkus in Griffith Park, with the Hollywood sign visible in the background

**Picture 2:** Elio and Marzia on the couch, Barkus between them, each of them scratching his belly

**Picture 3:** Barkus wearing an “I <3 NY” shirt for dogs

**Caption:** My brother, Elio, and his best friend Marzia, came for a visit! I miss them so much already. Elio gives the greatest belly rubs. He thinks I should move to New York, but I love it here in California!

**Comments:**

**elio.perlman:** I miss you, too, Papa. I mean, Barkus.

**marziarossi:** Thanks for letting us take over your house for a few days, Barkus!

* * *

_**Texts between Oliver and his aunt, Addison** _

**Addison:** Hey, Ollie, have you talked to Bruce yet?

**Oliver:** Unfortunately, I have. He is currently living in my guest room.

**Oliver:** “Why should I have to pay for a hotel when I’ve already paid for an apartment for you?”

**Addison:** He got that from my dad.

**Addison:** My dad is SO cheap. He wouldn’t even pay for BTS and Blackpink to play at my Bat Mitzvah!

**Oliver:** What a shame, he only got you BTS, the most popular boy band in the world.

**Addison:** I know, but Chloe Kaufman had Lizzo AND Harry Styles!

**Oliver:** Life isn’t always a competition, Addy.

**Addison:** I get to see your more often now, though!

**Addison:** Mom said at the end of the school year, we’re moving in with Astrid and Mason in the city.

**Oliver:** Our weird messed up family is even more messed up now.

**Addison:** A lot of my friends have two moms or two dads, it’s not that weird.

**Oliver:** Yes, but my step-mother leaving my father for my step-grandmother IS not something you hear every day.

**Oliver:** If Astrid and Cecilia get married, Mason will be both your step-brother and your nephew!

**Addison:** GROSS. DON’T PUT IT LIKE THAT. It makes it sound like incest. They’re not related.

**Oliver:** But they were married to a father and a son.

**Oliver:** You finally get that penthouse apartment and Manhattan life you’ve been dreaming about.

**Addison:** And I get to go to school in the city, too!

**Oliver:** I’m glad you’re happy about all of this

**Addison:** I’m not happy, but it doesn’t mean I’m not getting things out of it. The sadder I pretend to be, the more they give me. I’m almost 13, I know how things work.

**Oliver:** I really hope everyone can keep it civil at your Bat Mitzvah.

**Addison:** Me, too. 

**Addison:** Are you going to bring a date? I’m SO happy Eden won’t be there.

**Oliver:** Everyone keeps saying that to me about her…

**Oliver:** I’m not sure yet. Probably not.

**Addison:** Well, you can always bring someone. Unless she’s even worse than Eden. Then, leave her at home.

**Addison:** What are you doing today?

**Oliver:** Besides going to work and making sure my father gets dressed and eats something, I have to go to city hall to pick something up. A classmate from college is helping me with a project.

**Addison:** Ohhhh another secret Congo project!

**Oliver:** This one is just for a friend, actually.

* * *

As was usually the case on a Saturday afternoon, the line for the Upper West Side Shake Shack nearly went out the door. Oliver’s stomach was audibly rumbling, but they’d waited this long already, and he really wanted a burger. “... so now, the step-mother who is younger than I am left my dad, for my grandfather’s trophy wife.”

“No!” Elio said with a snort. “That’s kind of hilarious.”

They inched their way toward the registers, only a few people from the front of the line now. “How was your trip to California?” Oliver asked.

“It was good! I met with a few record companies, gave them my pitch and a demo. Sony and Universal were both interested, but I don’t know if I should go with something smaller, or an independent group.”

Remembering Elio’s protests outside of his own large corporation, Oliver smirked. “I know how you feel about corporate America… do you have any offers in writing yet?”

Elio shook his head. “Not yet, but I should be getting them soon.”

“I think it depends on what you’re being offered, but sometimes it’s better to be the big fish in a small pond. I’m sure you’ve seen that in publishing, smaller authors in niche areas sometimes get left behind at larger publishing houses. You might benefit from a smaller company focusing most of its attention on you.”

Finally, after what felt like days, they were called to the counter. After placing their order, they stood off to the side with their pagers, counting down the minutes before their food was in their hands. It felt cruel, standing near the kitchen, the scent of bacon and burgers and french fries wafting about, while they still did not have their food. Once their pagers vibrated, Oliver ran to the counter and grabbed their to-go bags. They decided to sit on a bench in Central Park, just outside of the Museum of Natural History.

Oliver unwrapped his Shack Stack and took a bite, moaning as he finally tasted the combination of mushroom and cheeseburger he’d been craving. “You’re telling me that you needed a cheeseburger topped with a mushroom burger, and the Shackmeister fries? That can feed a family of four!” Elio mused, as he ate his much less decadent cheeseburger.

“What can I say? I’m still a growing boy,” Oliver joked, patting his stomach. 

Elio dipped a french fry into his milkshake, and spoke with his mouth full. “How’s your store doing?”

“Pretty good. I’m probably off to the next project in the company soon, though, now that the store is established and stabilized,” Oliver said without a hint of enthusiasm.

A pigeon landed on the edge of the bench, and Elio swatted at it with his hand, encouraging it to fly away. “Is that next thing in New York, or Seattle, or elsewhere?”

Oliver followed Elio’s lead and dipped a fry into Elio’s shake. “New York. I don’t even know if I want to stay on at Congo, though. Is this really where I want to spend the rest of my life? It’s the path my father’s always imagined for me, but I don’t think it’s what I want.”

“I have a friend who’s gone through the same thing. She works for her family’s business and doesn’t really want to, but isn’t sure how she can leave without disappointing her family. What would you do if you didn’t work for Congo?”

Oliver knew exactly who this friend was, but didn’t tell Elio that. “I don’t even know what else is out there. Philanthropy maybe? Start a charity or a non-profit? Find some way to do good with my family’s wealth? Feel like I’m not just destroying lives or the world, or at the very least, my sanity, to make even more money for my dad?”

“Well, that’s an idea. What kind of charity would you start? What are you interested in?”

“That’s the problem,” Oliver exclaimed. “There are too many things that I care about, and there’s too much out there that needs funding. The environment, hunger, literacy, education, health, politics. How do I pick the one to focus on?”

Elio grabbed one of Oliver’s fries without asking permission, wanting to try the shallots on top of the crinkle-cut fries. “You’ll figure it out. Though, if you’re looking for a side project, I have an idea.”

He raised his eyebrow, curiosity coursing through him. “Oh?”

“Well…” Elio stuttered, holding back on what he was trying to say. “You have a great voice…”

Oliver playfully elbowed Elio in the ribs. “Aww, shucks, you flatter me,” he said, pretending to flit his eyelashes.

“Quit it, I’m serious. Anyway, one of the ideas I had when I was giving my pitch was to write some songs and compose some music, while someone reads a story or dialogue. Think something like _Peter and the Wolf_ , but modern.” Elio scratched his head, threading his fingers through his curls. “I think you’d be really good at narrating a children’s story.”

“Is it because I’m so child-like?” Oliver joked, leaning back against the bench. Even though Elio’d been opening up to him, he was surprised that Elio had thought of him for this gig. Over the past few months, everything Elio did or said made him feel nervous and excited. He was so handsome, and smart, and was always two steps ahead of Oliver in the conversation, which he admired. He just wished he could tell Elio how crazy about him he was, without hurting him in the process. He’d waited too long to reveal his identity, and now it was only going to damage their relationship.

Elio looked down at his feet and twisted the wrapper from his straw around his finger, much like he had Oliver wrapped around his finger. “You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to… I don’t even have a contract or an offer yet…”

“You’ll get a recording deal, you’re definitely going to get one, if the parents in Mason’s class are any indication to your future success…” He smiled, and dipped another fry in Elio’s milkshake. “I’ll have to think about it. Though, you do know that it means we’d be spending more time together.”

He shrugged his shoulders and avoided eye contact. “I wouldn’t mind that.” Elio finally looked over at Oliver, and the two shared a soft moment, before each of them returned to chowing down their burgers.

"So, I actually have something for you," Oliver said once he finished his burger, reaching into his messenger bag.

Elio traipsed to the trash can and grabbed Oliver's garbage, throwing everything out at once. "What do you have for me? Gimme, gimme!" he pleaded, reaching over to Oliver's bag to see what was inside.

Oliver swatted at Elio's hand, and pulled out a manila folder. "I asked my City Councillor to do this, and he agreed that it was a great idea." Elio looked at the sheet of paper, a mockup of a street sign. "It's only honorary, but the city is going to put up a street sign whenever you're ready to host an unveiling ceremony. West 80th, between Broadway and Amsterdam, will also be known as Annella Perlman Way."

"Y-you did this, for me? Why?"

"Because I knew how much your mother meant to you, and how much she meant to the community, both of the Upper West Side and the New York literary scene. If she's anything like you've mentioned, she was a great woman, and I wish I'd known her."

After wiping a tear from under his eye, Elio smirked. "And you'll never not feel guilty about the store closing, even if it wasn't ENTIRELY your fault..."

"Yeah, I guess that, too. But mostly as a way for you to still keep your mother's legacy alive, like you wanted to by keeping the store open for as long as you did."

"Thank you," Elio finally mustered, closing the folder and giving Oliver a hug. Though he wished the hug would last longer, Oliver realized he was going to have to tell Elio that he was his Reddit friend soon. It was not going to end well, but he couldn’t continue the friendship if Elio didn’t know the whole truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter (maybe two, if I split it up and post the epilogue separately) to go! Thank you all for your support, comments, and kudos.


	7. Chapter Seven

**_Instagram Post by elioperlman_ **

**Picture:** A signed contract, artfully situated between pieces of sheet music on a piano

**Caption:** I’m excited to announce that I’ve officially signed a record deal! I’ll be recording and releasing a children’s album on Rivington Records! I can’t wait to share what I’ve been working on with the world.

**Comments:**

**samuelperlman:** Mazel tov! I’m so proud of you, Elly Belly. I know maman would have been extremely proud of you, too.

**marzia.rossi:** FUCK YEAH! My best friend is going to be a rockstar!

**elioperlman:** @ **marzia.rossi** a rockstar for toddlers, maybe.

**chiaraf:** Yay! I knew you could do it!

**oliverfox:** Congratulations! I’m so excited for you!

**barkus.aurelius:** I love you, Elio! So happy and proud of you. Woof!

**cynthiadorfman7:** Congrats, Elio!

* * *

**_Instagram conversation between Elio (elioperlman) and Marzia (marzia.rossi)_ **

**marzia.rossi:** ELLLLLIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

**marzia.rossi:** How did your meeting go?

**elioperlman:** Good! They liked what I’d written so far.

**elioperlman:** They all loved Oliver, too.

**marzia.rossi:** Of course they did. Who doesn’t?

**elioperlman:** You?

**marzia.rossi:** True, but I’m being a good friend to you, and still hate him, even if you don’t.

**marzia.rossi:** He still works for the company that put Le Dépanneur out of business.

**marzia.rossi:** And he was such a shit to you for such a long time. He needs to prove himself to me before I’m willing to like him.

**marzia.rossi:** Though getting the bookstore’s stretch of West 80th named after your mother was a really nice gesture.

**elioperlman:** He quit his job, he told his father he’s leaving Congo as soon as they can find a replacement for him.

**marzia.rossi:** Really? Where’s he going next? Goldman? JP Morgan?

**elioperlman:** Ha ha, very funny.

**elioperlman:** He’s been unhappy for a long time, and wants to do something different, something good with his life.

**elioperlman:** Oliver isn’t who I initially thought he was. He’s a good person. Selfish, sometimes, but he’s trying hard to be better.

**marzia.rossi:** You’re just saying this because he’s hot and you looooove him.

**elioperlman:** I do not!

**marzia.rossi:** So you’re saying you wouldn’t fuck him?

**elioperlman:** I didn’t say THAT.

**elioperlman:** I do like him, I think, but everything is complicated. Plus, I don’t even know if he likes me.

**marzia.rossi:** You’re a dumbass. He likes you. In that way.

**elioperlman:** Also, there’s someone else I can’t stop thinking about, and I don’t think I could commit to being with anyone else unless I knew if we would work.

**marzia.rossi:** E, you flatter me, but you know that our relationship is strictly platonic. You can keep reliving our one drunken romp in the hay the night we met, but it’s not going to happen again.

**elioperlman:** (several annoyed emojis and one with a tongue sticking out)

**marzia.rossi:** It’s the reddit friend who stood you up, isn’t it.

**elioperlman:** Yes. I’ve got such a connection with her, and she’s hinted that she feels the same way.

**marzia.rossi:** Then you should meet her face to face and tell her how you feel. Or confirm that she’s a catfish.

**elioperlman:** she’s not a catfish.

**marzia.rossi:** I hope not, for your sake. But if she is, you should tell Oliver how you feel. Doesn’t matter that I don’t like him. You should be happy, babe.

**elioperlman:** I’m not even sure what I feel!

* * *

**_Reddit conversation between Elio (MotherOfPerl) and Oliver (NY152)_ **

**NY152:** Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I think we should meet. For real this time.

**MotherOfPerl:** Are you sure? What if you don’t like what you see?

**NY152:** I don’t think that would be possible. 

**MotherOfPerl:** If you want to meet in person, so do I.

**NY152:** We enjoy talking to each other, though. What if meeting me changes things for you?

**MotherOfPerl:** It won’t. I know what’s on the inside, and that’s what matters. I’d like to get to know you in person. 

**MotherOfPerl:** Maybe I’ve misread things, but I think we have a connection. Something more than friendship, perhaps.

**NY152:** You’re not wrong.

**NY152:** So, I take it things didn’t work out with Sexypants?

**MotherOfPerl:** Things are… weird with him. But, they’re not going to happen, anyway.

**NY152:** That’s a shame, you seemed to like him.

**MotherOfPerl:** My father and my best friend both said that, too.

**NY152:** Let’s meet at Sal and Carmine’s for dinner. Best slice of pizza on the Upper West Side.

**MotherOfPerl:** Good choice.

**NY152:** Great, I’ll see you there at 7 tonight. I’ll wear my USWNT jersey, should be easy to spot.

* * *

Tonight was the night. Oliver was going to come clean to Elio, and he was bracing himself for the worst. If Elio never spoke to him again, at least he told him the truth, and didn’t keep leading him on. Elio could easily find another narrator for his children’s songs. Elio would befriend another nemesis and take long walks in the park with him. Elio fell in love swiftly, he’d certainly find someone else soon. It would be Oliver who wallowed for months, but Elio would heal quickly.

He arrived early to the pizza place, grabbing a small table against the wall that seats two. Though he felt sick to his stomach, butterflies and nerves slowly eating away at his insides, he still couldn’t resist ordering a slice of pizza before Elio arrived. Oliver took out his phone, and kept glancing at the time, unsure if he wanted to freeze time and never see Elio, or speed it up and get it over with. Who was he kidding? If Elio was going to be furious with him and never want to see him again, Oliver would still want to see Elio this one last time. He’d fallen hard for him over the past several months, and the thought of not having Elio in his life, in any context, was already painful, and it hadn’t even happened yet.

A few minutes before 7PM, when Oliver was halfway through his second slice of pizza (the man could eat an entire pie in one sitting after all), Elio finally walked into the restaurant. Oliver locked eyes with Elio and raised his hand in acknowledgment, inviting him over to the table. Elio looked around, but wasn’t happy with what he saw - Oliver realized Elio was looking for a woman close in age to himself.

“Are you stalking me?” Elio asked jokingly, sitting down in the empty chair across from Oliver. He took his coat off, draping it on the chair, and he was wearing a _2019 World Champions_ t-shirt. “Did you know I was going to be here?” 

Oliver nodded. “We had planned to meet here at seven…” He unzipped his hoodie, revealing his own Megan Rapinoe jersey.

Elio scrunched up his nose in confusion. “But… I was supposed to… she said… OHHH.” At the moment of realization, his eyes widened. Oliver nodded once more, as Elio sank into his chair, his head in his hands as he contemplated what was happening.

“I told you that you weren’t going to like what you saw, MotherOfPerl,” Oliver bemoaned. He took Elio’s hand in his own, softly running his thumb over the top of Elio’s hand. 

Elio jerked his hand back, his eyes filled with bewilderment. He seemed to have put the puzzle pieces together. “So, at the cafe, you were…”

“That’s when I figured it out, yes. I didn’t know before I went there to meet you that night, but I saw you sitting inside and panicked.”

After a brief pause, during which Elio’s face turned red from frustration, he finally spoke. “Why didn’t you say anything to me then?”

He felt embarrassed. Of course he should have said something at the cafe. But he didn’t, and he’d have to live with that forever. “You hated me then. If I had told you that we were Reddit friends that night, would you have wanted to be my friend in real life? Something more than my friend? I believe you told me that I was a terrible person, and that no one would ever remember me when I was gone.”

“I… You’re probably right, but you still kept it from me for all of this time, even after we got closer…”

“That’s why I’m coming clean now. I couldn’t lie to you anymore.” Oliver looked down at the table, avoiding Elio’s gaze. “You’re too important to me, and I needed to tell you the truth about our online friendship, so we could continue our real life one.”

Elio stood up and started to pace next to their small table. “What have you been doing since then? Trying to break down my defenses? Tricking me into a friendship? Using our Reddit conversations to find out secret information and groom me for a relationship? I’m so confused, Oliver.” He slammed his hand down against the table, which wobbled, causing the napkin dispenser and spice bottles to fall to the floor.

“I wasn’t doing any of that, Elio. I just wanted to be your friend. I made one bad decision, to not tell you who I was at the start, and then I got caught in the web of lies. I wish I had told you sooner.” Elio grabbed his coat and stormed out of the restaurant. Oliver picked up everything that had fallen, throwing it down on the table, and ran after him. “Elio, wait,” he shouted.

He caught up with Elio about half a block later, on Broadway. “What do you want, Oliver? Why would you do this to me? Just leave me alone.”

While they were standing in one place, he put his jacket back on, leaving it unzipped. “Please, just let me explain.” Elio crossed his arms and began impatiently tapping his foot. “When I first figured out that you were my Reddit friend, I was angry, too. But while we were sitting in the cafe, I realized, even if we hated each other as Oliver Fox of Congo, and Elio Perlman the independent bookstore owner, you were also MotherOfPerl. It didn’t seem like just an internet persona. The person with whom I’d bared my soul was the real deal. And I knew that beneath your justifiably bitter and vexed exterior, was this kind, warm, caring person I’d been speaking with for years. But you hated me, and I decided in that moment that you had to get to know me as Oliver, before I told you that I was NY152. Was it the wrong choice? Yes. But I don’t regret any of the time we’ve spent together, and I’ve never lied to you.”

Elio smacked his hand against the wall of the apartment building they were now standing next to. “I… I told you so many things online. About you! And you encouraged the conversation! I told you how I felt about you! You KNEW how I felt, for months!”

“I’m so sorry, Elio. For what it’s worth, I think you know how I feel about you.” He frowned, not liking the direction the conversation had taken, even if he had anticipated it.

“You think I’m an easy mark whom you could lead on for months until you found someone better to toy with. My emotions are just a game for you.” Elio took a deep breath and sighed. “And you kept up the facade in our conversations when I thought you were going to be female. You were lying. I’m done. I’m not a sucker.”

Oliver took a step closer to Elio. “I wasn’t leading you on or lying. I like you, Elio. In fact, I’m crazy about you. I’m madly in love with you.” He cupped Elio’s cheek with his hand, and this time, Elio didn’t flinch. Instead, Elio pushed him against the wall, and without saying another word, kissed him angrily. Soon, once the sexual tension had dissolved, they leaned into the kiss, passion coursing between their lips and tongues. Elio ran his hands up Oliver’s clothed back, beneath his open jacket, and Oliver finally got to tangle his fingers into Elio’s curls, something he’d been dying to do since the day they’d met.

Elio took a step back and wiped the tears that were forming away from his eyes. “I want this. But I’m still mad at you,” he finally uttered.

“I deserve it,” Oliver admitted.

“But I don’t want to lose you,” Elio lamented, squeezing Oliver’s hand tightly.

Oliver wrapped his free hand around Elio, pulling him in for a hug. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re going to have to work really hard.” Oliver nodded in agreement, knowing he deserved that. “I won’t let you use your charm, or your influence, or especially your money, to win my affection.”

He looked down at Elio and smiled. “I can’t help it that you think I’m charming. But I will do whatever it takes to get back into your good graces.”

Elio bit his lip and began to whisper. “You can begin by taking me back to your place.” As soon as Elio spoke those words, Oliver lifted out his arm to hail a cab, but Elio smacked his hand down. “We can walk from here, don’t use your money, remember?”

Oliver began leading the way, and Elio held his hands as they walked toward Riverside Drive. “So I’m not allowed to spend any money at all? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“No, just don’t spend money unnecessarily.”

“But it was necessary, I need you on my bed, immediately.”

Elio chuckled and jokingly shoved Oliver. “But you’re saving ten dollars, and I promise I’m worth the wait.”

“I know you are.”

The ten minute walk to Oliver’s apartment took longer than it should have, punctuated by makeout sessions at red lights that lasted so long they had to wait for the next light. When they finally arrived at Oliver’s building, Elio began to laugh when he saw the address was 152 Riverside - of course that was how he chose his throwaway name on Reddit. Oliver waved at his evening doorman, and escorted Elio to the elevators. Once they were positive they were the only ones entering the elevator, they began kissing again until they reached the top floor. Oliver fumbled for his key, and opened the door for Elio.

Elio walked around Oliver’s spacious penthouse apartment while Oliver hung up their coats. “So this is how the other half lives,” Elio mused, admiring the enormous bookcase in Oliver’s living room. He followed Oliver toward his bedroom, passing many doors in the process. “This place is insane. And I thought my apartment had too many rooms for one person...”

“Two, technically. I think I already told you that my dad is living here with me right now.” Oliver opened the door to his bedroom, and took his shoes off, putting them away in his closet. “He’s out of town on business for a few days.”

Elio kicked his shoes off and jumped onto the bed. “Probably for the best. I can be pretty loud, and I don’t like holding back.”

“Let’s see how loudly I can make you scream, then,” Oliver growled, jumping next to Elio, pinning him down, kissing him aggressively. He made sure they wasted no more time, and they had soon shed their clothing. 

Oliver began laying slow kisses on Elio’s body, starting with his neck. Before taking Elio’s length in his mouth, he asked for Elio’s consent. “Yes. Oh God, yes. But I’m still mad at you, just so you know.” 

He playfully licked at the tip before making eye contact with Elio once more. “Do you want me to stop?”

Elio shook his head as quickly as he could. “No, please don’t.” And with that, Oliver got to experience just how loud Elio promised he could be in the throes of passion.

After Elio returned the favor, taking his time and making Oliver beg for release, he rested his head on Oliver’s chest, interlinking his fingers with Oliver’s, basking in their contented silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go this long without talking,” Oliver soon said. “What are you thinking about?”

“That I can’t believe I thought you were female from our Reddit conversations…”

Oliver chuckled and kissed the top of Elio’s head. “I thought you were going to be female, too.”

Elio took Oliver’s hand and placed it on his cock, already hard again. “Definitely not female.” Oliver squeezed his cock and gave it a playful tug.

“Why don’t you show me what you want to do?” Oliver suggested. Elio immediately bounced up and sat on Oliver’s thighs.

“Do you have lube and condoms?” Elio asked. Oliver reached over into his nightstand and handed Elio a condom and a bottle of lube. “I think it’s time I made you scream.” Elio rolled the condom on, spread Oliver’s legs, and slowly entered Oliver.

The next morning (or maybe several mornings later, they’d lost track of time), Elio went into the kitchen in just an open button-down shirt and an oversized pair of boxers, both Oliver’s. Going home for a change of clothing or doing laundry was low on his list of priorities at the moment. Before he had a chance to grind beans to brew a pot of coffee, Oliver, wearing only a pair of pajama pants, sidled up behind him, picking him up and putting him on the counter. “Mmm, good morning,” Elio squealed, as Oliver began kissing his neck. Oliver slid his hand into Elio’s shorts and began stroking him, to Elio’s surprise and delight. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbled, tilting his head back as Oliver kept kissing and nibbling.

“I thought I’d come in here for some breakfast, but I think you need to come first,” he whispered, quickening his pace.

Elio suddenly froze up and shouted, “Oh, fuck!”

“I knew you’d like this, babe,” Oliver groaned, nipping at Elio’s collarbone.

Suddenly, Oliver heard some pots and pans clang and fall to the ground, startling him. He turned around and saw his father, who was unsuccessfully trying to leave the room without being seen. Oliver pulled his hands away from Elio’s shorts and jumped forward, and Elio, still sitting on the counter, grabbed the first thing within reach that he could find to cover his tented shorts. With a baguette on his lap, he shyly waved at Oliver’s father, soon burying his face into his forearm.

“Hi, I’m Bruce,” Oliver’s father said, standing in the doorframe.

“Elio,” he said, his cheeks flushed.

“Someone’s happy to see me,” Oliver’s father began to laugh, noting the baguette. “Oh! We met when you were a kid. You’re the moppet from Le Dépanneur!”

“Dad!” Oliver shouted, trying to get rid of his father. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until Tuesday?”

“It is Tuesday,” he chuckled. “I…. I just came here to drop my things off, I’m heading into the office.” He ambled out of the room and then poked his head back in. “I’m taking your brother to Bubby’s for dinner tonight. Would you and Elio like to join us? Am I wrong in assuming you two are an item?”

Elio shrugged his shoulders, unsure of whether he was supposed to accept the invitation. “We’ll be there. Text me the details,” Oliver said. “See you tonight!” he added, walking toward his father to push him out of the kitchen. Once they heard the apartment door close and the lock click, they dissolved into fits of laughter.

They each tore off a piece of baguette and began to nibble on the days-old bread. “I still hate your father and everything he stands for,” Elio said. “You realize I’m going to tell him that at dinner.”

“I’d expect nothing less of you,” Oliver said with a mouth full of bread. “It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

“I love you, too,” Elio nodded, finally admitting what he’d known for months.

After breakfast, they walked up Riverside Park toward Elio’s apartment, so he could finally get a change of clothes before their dinner that evening. “... So in the fall, I’ll be taking some non-profit management courses at Columbia.”

They clasped hands as they walked, never not touching each other. “What are you going to do with your time until then? Besides when you’re recording voice-over for me?”

“For now, some advocacy with the USWNT. I’m going to assist in their legal fund in the fight for pay equity. Figured I should do something with my money for now until I can figure out how to make philanthropy my career.”

Elio nuzzled his head against Oliver’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you,” he beamed, as they glided through the park, toward the rest of their lives together.

* * *

* * *

> **  
> EPILOGUE**

**_Instagram Post by barkus.aurelius_ **

**Picture:** Elio, Oliver, Sammy and Barkus, on the Santa Monica pier

**Caption:** My brother, Elio, and his fiance, Oliver, came for a visit! Oliver agrees that Elio gives the best belly rubs. Elio loves me so much that he asked me to be a ring bearer in his wedding, with Oliver’s little brother!

**Comments:**

**elioperlman:** OMG DAD. @ **oliverfox** did not say such a thing. I love you, Dad, but this is a lot. Also, thank you.   
**marzia.rossi:** You lucky dog - all you have to do is wag your tail and look cute! As maid of honor, I have to plan an entire bachelor party!

**oliverfox** : I do agree with you, Barkus, @ **elioperlman** ’s belly rubs are the best. Also, Mason is more excited that he gets to walk down the aisle with you than he is about getting to be in the wedding.

**cynthiadorfman7** : Thanks for visiting, Elio and Oliver! We’re so excited for your wedding!

* * *

**Instagram conversation between Elio (elioperlman) and Marzia (marzia.rossi)**

**elioperlman:** You’re getting married tomorrow, Dr. Rossi!

**marzia.rossi:** Soon to be Dr. Washington! Is it anti-feminist and gross that I’m taking Xaviers’s name?

**elioperlman:** Not at all. It’s your decision.

**marzia.rossi:** You and Oliver didn’t change your names publicly.

**elioperlman:** We changed them legally. We’re both Perlman-Fox. We just never changed our names professionally, it was too complicated and his name has too much cache.

**elioperlman:** You nervous?

**marzia.rossi:** Not at all. 

**marzia.rossi:** Who’d have thought I’d meet my future husband at a boring dinner party you dragged me to when Oliver was running late?

**elioperlman:** Don’t tell Kevin you find his dinner parties boring. He and Jess will be really offended.

**elioperlman:** You’re lucky that Oliver’s hot best friend had an even hotter older brother, who was willing to spend a lifetime being bossed around by you.

**marzia.rossi:** Hey! You're not wrong, but I'm offended. Also, fuck, Xavier’s going to look so good in a tux.

**elioperlman:** You should go to bed.

**elioperlman:** I’m looking forward to more of our weird triple dates.

**marzia.rossi:** Love you, E.

**elioperlman:** Love you, too, M.

* * *

**“** **_My Family_ ** **” by Annie Perlman-Fox, Ms. Copeland’s First Grade Class, Barnes-Campbell Preparatory Academy, as dictated to Ms. Copeland**

A long time ago, my grand-mère owned a bookstore called Le Dépanneur. A bookstore is store where you buy books - it’s weird that you could go to stores and buy them! Now you just buy them from your phone from Congo, a company started by my Grandpa Bruce. My grand-mère’s name was Annella, which is why my first name is Annella even though everyone calls me Annie. I am named after her. She was married to Grandpa Sammy, and he said she was the love of his life. He is now married to Grandma Cynthia. They spend half of the year in New York and half in California. They have a very old dog named Barkus who has no teeth and is really slow and fat and I love him so much. 

After grand-mère Annella died from cancer, my Papa ran the store. He said it was really hard work and that the bookstore industry was dying. One day, Daddy took Uncle Mason and Aunt Addie for a playdate on the Upper West Side, and they went to Papa’s store and saw him singing. Papa soon found out that Daddy worked for Grandpa Bruce’s company, which Papa says is the reason bookstores are extinct like dinosaurs. Papa said he used to hate Grandpa Bruce and said he ruined the economy, but he and Grandpa Bruce like each other now. Daddy thinks it is because Papa makes Grandpa Bruce feel bad, so Grandpa donates a lot of money to charity. Daddy and Papa kept running into each other and fighting. Papa is very stubborn and Daddy likes to argue, and they did not get along for a long time. But don’t worry, this has a happy ending!

Daddy and Papa both really like soccer, and they made friends with people on the internet who also talk about soccer. Papa planned to meet his online friend at a cafe, and instead ran into Daddy there, and they had another fight. It turns out that Daddy and Papa were friends from the internet but didn’t know it! Daddy realized it right away, and was afraid that Papa wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore if he knew his secret.

Eventually, they became friends after Daddy asked Papa to play songs at Uncle Mason’s class. Ms. Valentine was his teacher then and she was my teacher last year! Soon, they hung out all the time, until Daddy told Papa the truth. At first Papa was mad, but then he realized that he loved Daddy the whole time, and they’ve been together ever since.

A year after that, they were engaged, a year after that, they got married, and a year after that, they adopted me! They adopted my little brother Isaac three years after me. I don’t have a mom, but that’s okay because I have two awesome dads. If I ever have questions about being a girl, Auntie Marzia says I can always talk to her. I know Daddy and Papa love me and Isaac a lot, but I think they love each other the most. They always hold hands and kiss when they think no one sees, but I see.

I love when they take us to soccer games and to museums and to Europe. Last summer was my favorite because Papa went on tour and we got to go with him. One night I got to play piano on stage while Papa played guitar for one of his songs. It was so much fun and the audience cheered for me! One day I want to be just as good at music as my Papa. 

Daddy runs his own company, the Fox Family Foundation. They give money to people who are going to do good things, like feed hungry people or give sick people medicine or elect Democrats. I like visiting him at the office because Aunt Addie just came back from college at Harvard and works there. They give zillions of dollars to people who need it. Daddy loves what he does. I want to play piano or play soccer when I grow up, but if I don’t do those, I want to work with Daddy.

My Daddy and Papa are the best parents ever, and Isaac is annoying but he is a good brother. I love my whole family.

* * *

**_Text messages between Elio and Oliver_ **

**Elio:** Babe, where are you?

**Elio:** Olllllllllllliver

**Elio:** (sends a very suggestive selfie that starts with his mouth and ends just before the picture becomes x-rated)

**Elio:** Is your meeting over? I need you.

**Elio:** I’m lonely! The kids are only at sleepaway camp for another week.

**Elio:** And I want you so badly. I just had a glass of wine. I need my sexy husband to perform his marital duties.

**Elio:** I need your huge cock inside of me.

**Elio:** We can do that thing, where you pound into me while my legs are on your shoulders, that we can’t do all the time because it makes me scream.

**Elio:** I want it rough tonight. I want us both sore tomorrow. Remember, we only have a week left before Annie and Isaac are home.

**Elio:** I’m looking at those pictures that we took on our honeymoon. And I’m so hard.

**Elio:** I’m touching myself. I could be touching you right now. Or sucking you off.

**Elio:** I had another glass of wine and I’m sooooo horny and I need you, Oliver.

**Oliver:** FUCK, ELIO.

**Elio:** Exactly. Come home, and fuck Elio.

**Oliver:** I was sharing my screen with the investors in Australia that Addison found.

**Oliver:** I’m connecting them with the environmental advocacy group we just gave a grant to. They might donate tens of millions.

**Oliver:** Every time I thought I closed out of my messaging app, it would re-open with each new message you sent.

**Oliver:** They. Saw. Everything.

**Elio:** OH FUCK.

**Elio:** Well not EVERYTHING, for what it’s worth. I made sure I left something to the imagination.

**Elio:** Did I fuck it up?

**Oliver:** No, fortunately they found it funny. Once you mentioned the wine and the kids being away at camp, they fully understood.

**Oliver:** One of them told me we can talk over email tomorrow, and that I should go home and make love to my husband.

**Elio:** Are you coming home soon?

**Oliver:** I’m on my way.

**Oliver:** You’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow.

**Elio:** Good.

**Oliver:** I’ll see you in fifteen. I love you.

**Elio:** I love you, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap on You've Got Male! Thank you all for the support, for the kudos, for the comments, and for all of the love. I hope Oliver was redeemed somewhat, and that their love is believable (and if not, it's a romcom :D).
> 
> Now that I've finally finished this story, I'm going back to Somewhere in North Brooklyn, and Next of Kin. I also have a new story percolating. Expect updates in these stories in the next few weeks!


End file.
